Can't walk away
by Ky03elk
Summary: Beckett and Castle realize that her 'wall' is beginning to fall and they can finally see a future together. But nothing is that easy, especially with outside forces attempting to destroy them. While they are both determined to keep their family together, will living on the run tear them apart? Or should they just be more focused on staying alive? AU after Cops and Robbers.
1. Chapter 1

Can't Walk Away

Chapter one

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Cops and Robbers AU, and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo (there should be two updates a week). Thank you to Jo and Nic for the edits xoxo

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_We kissed, I fell under your spell_

_A love no one could deny_

_._

* * *

Her hand flies to her mouth as a giggle of delight escapes, and she pushes against her lips with extra force, wanting to conceal the noise. Her eyes close in embarrassment at the thought of being caught laughing at the production that is unravelling before her, and she hopes that neither Castle nor Martha were able to hear it.

Luck is not on Kate's side though, and she feels his knee gently knock into hers with just enough pressure to let her know that she was unsuccessful. That she was heard. Turning to take in the man beside her, her eyes open to the sight of him attempting to suppress his own mirth. Apparently, she is not the only one who finds this situation hilarious.

The elation of sitting here, next to each other after all that they have survived bank robbers, explosions, _more _close calls- shimmers between them; as if flecks of glitter dance enhancing the happiness in the air, and this time she allows the sound of joy to tumble from her.

She is blaming the glass of red in her hand. Or it may be a result of Martha, who is standing in front of them, re-enacting her brave stand opposite Trapper John, and the way she is embellishing the story of how she had placed her own life on the line when her son had been threatened at gunpoint. Either way, there is a lightness that is breaking free of the normally contained arrangement that they live by; a jubilation that comes with being here, next to him after the day they've had, and she doesn't want to lose this feeling. Ever.

She came so close to losing him today.

The thought causes her lashes to shut against her skin, again, and she wishes that it were just as easy to stop the loop that is playing on repeat in her mind. The way the command center had rocked on its wheels, the turmoil crashing over her as the bomb had exploded, and Kate is grateful when Martha's voice cuts through her unwanted reflection, forcing her eyes to open wide.

"And on that note, dears, it is past time for me to retire." The red head sweeps her hands in front of her, waving farewell to her captive audience, before bowing slightly, and Kate finds herself standing in order to embrace the older woman. The pressure expelled from Martha's brightly colored arms is intense, and she is held fast. While ordinarily Kate would have found such a maneuver stifling, today she returns the hug; is thankful that they are having this moment.

Moving away in order for them to detach, Kate's taken by surprise when hands weathered with time cradle her face. Keeping her steady they pause, both quietly contemplating each other, and Kate is struck by the power contained in Martha's look.

"Thank you, darling girl, for everything today. For in these instances, one is truly grateful for all who adorn her life." Her statement leaves them smiling, before Kate is released with a force that has her stumbling in the direction of the couch. Righting herself, she shuffles back, watches Castle being treated to the same outpouring of affection, and Kate is reminded once more how truly tight knit a family they are. She will always be grateful for the wonderful people that have made their way into her life.

People she came so close to losing.

Swirling her wine, Kate lifts it to her lips, enjoys the smooth sensation of it gliding effortlessly down her throat. Lost in the feeling that encases her, the pleasure that comes with relaxing, she is only vaguely aware of Martha's exit up the stairs, but as she comes back to the present, she discovers Castle standing nearby, scrutinizing her movements.

"Yes?"

His lips part, teeth flashing in amusement over her mock tone of indignation, and he appears to be experiencing a moment of boldness; standing tall he chuckles softly, before asking, "Are you enjoying that red?"

The loose strands around her face dance lightly across her skin as she nods in agreement. Whatever this bottle is, it is doing scary things to her sense of decorum, is kicking down the bricks of her carefully constructed wall and Kate finds herself eyeing the liquid as if it may burst into flames while in her hand. Or maybe it is she who is about to burst into flames.

"It is a nice glass, Beckett, you have good taste. It's an exquisite bottle that I-"

Bringing up her hand, she places a finger across his full lips, silences his ramblings mid-sentence. Their position is too close, too dangerous especially given all that has happened, and Kate forces herself backward, trying to burst the bubble that was encompassing them.

She is not ready, not fixed. Not whole. But the nagging voice in the back of her mind is insistent, whispering its deadly thoughts; that while she is slowly getting there, there is no guarantee that they will both live long enough to see her wall fall.

Spinning on the spot she drains the last of the glorious wine and heads toward the kitchen, creates some distance; has to hope that it is enough to smother the fire that is coiling low within her body.

Going about the motions of rinsing out her glass, her desire to create a gap is ignored. He follows, huddles in beside her, the edge of his hip jutting into her body and he reaches over to place his glass next to hers. He seems to purposely advance at a snail's pace, their clothes catching when his arm slides across hers and back again. She forgets to inhale, forgets everything for a second except for how much she craves this closeness, how much she craves him.

But she can't have him, not yet.

Clearing her throat, she searches for a safe topic, needs something to hide behind, lest she turn and confess all that is coursing through her veins, and she settles on the safest topic of them all.

"Will Alexis be okay?"

While his solid frame never moves away from her, she senses his mind shifting to focus on her question and she is thankful for the small reprieve.

"Yeah, she's… upset. After Stanford and now this, I think a part of her wants to pack her bags and head for the hills. Get away and start a new life. But I think she will be okay."

Kate angles her head so she can watch as he continues to mull over Alexis' predicament, shares his daughter's pain in the way only a parent can, and she loves him in this moment. And it's this realization that creates an avalanche, a deluge of comprehension. She loves the way he is protective of his family, the way he loves so fiercely, the way he is such a considerate father, a gracious son, an attentive friend.

She knows that he loves her, and she ignores the flashbacks that wish to be set free from their carefully constructed boxes; instead, she focuses on the fact that she loves him too, even if she is not ready to share that information.

Jerking sharply, she backs away from him– the concept too much to deal with tonight– and confusion clouds his expression over her withdrawal. He has no insight into the reason for her sudden panic and he lifts a hand toward her face, reaches for her as though he could recapture the moment they had almost had, if he could only recapture her.

Ducking away from his outstretched fingers, Kate all but marches toward the door, avoids his look while she makes her way to the entrance. Maybe it's because of the late hour or all that he went through today, but Castle bravely chases her, a large hand wrapping around her forearm, twisting her unexpectedly.

"Beck- Kate?"

It's her first name rolling across his tongue that has her coming to a halt; the way he caresses each letter, as if he were caressing her, and her eyes shut of their own accord. She wants nothing more in this moment than to curl herself around his body, feel the warmth of his skin against her own. To know, to feel that he is here, alive, and these dangerous thoughts appear to be shared, his hand sliding across the surface of her face, four fingers tucking themselves behind her ear, while his upturned thumb polishes the sharp contours of her cheekbone.

Her head cants into his touch, basks in the heat that spreads, scorching her from inside, and her tongue darts across her lips, coats them in a thin layer of moisture. Her actions only encourage him further, and the tip of his nose traces the length of hers. She follows his exploration, slides her skin across his but the weight of the situation is too heavy, and she drops her stare so that she can focus on the edge of his stubble, rather than the depths of his eyes.

"I'm not… enough yet, Castle. That wall is still there and I…" she breathes the words against the roughness of his neck, and a shiver erupts across his body, hips list into hers, and it breaks her confession truth free. "I've been seeing someone. Going to therapy. I'm not ready. But today…" Today she perceived that time is still ticking despite her internal struggles. Today, as the van shuddered underfoot, she thought that she had lost him, had lost any chance of them being more and it haunts her.

How close it all came to being moot, how close it all came to not meaning a thing. All the work she is doing to be free of the shackles that have encased her for so long would have been for naught, if the man before her were not here to share in the results of her effort.

His lips brush along her jawline as if the words have meant nothing, yet as he whispers breathlessly into her skin, she realizes it may have meant everything to him.

"As I was sitting there, gun pressed hard against my throat I thought of Alexis, all the tragedy she would have experienced if he had pulled that trigger, and I thought of you. Images flashed out of reach- all the moments we wouldn't get to have, and it was you two that had me holding on, fighting to get out of there."

His statement results in a strength that straightens her spine, head rising so that their eyes can lock, and he continues, instills his own truth in her. "I don't want to miss all that we can be."

Her lips trap his and she swallows the rest of his words. Their lips meet, and their tongues reconcile; they explore all that had remained out of reach until now. Yet she pulls back, needs to ensure that he understands before they go any further.

"I'm not ready. I'm not in a place where happily ever after is possible. Not yet. I still have more work to do before…" Before she is enough. Before she is all that he deserves. But after today, the thought of going home tears fragments from her soul and she is too weak to fight it.

"Kate?"

Her name falling from his lips has her focusing back onto her partner, on the situation at hand, and she listens intently while he asks, "Can you promise me that you won't run? I can wait. I can wait for us to be more. We can take this as slow as you need it to go, but tomorrow… if you run. I don't think-"

Forcing her mouth into his, she brings his question to a halt, thrusts everything she can into one kiss; she wants him to know her own truth. Everything she can't say, the promise that she is trying to make; that she wants them to be more as desperately as he does, and when they break apart, she slides a hand down.

Searching for his hand, Kate pushes against each digit so that she can separate his broad fingers, needs to fit hers in between. Interlocking their hands, she moves away, walks backwards, her eyes staying connected with his, and she shifts them toward his room.

"That I can promise you, Castle."

* * *

Since this is a novel, I thought a dedication would be fitting.

To Jo.

Because a little under three months ago I wrote my first story and put out the request for someone to read over it. I was fortunate in that two lovely people offered, but Jo did more than that, her and her little red pen have had a hand in the majority of my stories; she walked me through how to post on here, explained the simplest of things without laughing- too hard- and continues to be patient, when anyone else would have thrown their hands up and blocked me quickly.

Thank you for being my beta, more importantly thank you for being a friend!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo

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_I don't wanna be lonely no more,_

_I don't wanna have to pay for this._

_._

* * *

_Oh, shit!_

It is the only thought that travels through her mind, replays over and over, and she could weep at what has occurred. What _may _have occurred. Everything between her and Castle has been coasting along at a slow but steady pace. Their first night had led to more time spent intimately together. Coping with Christmas, her mother's anniversary, and tough cases that had weighed too heavily upon her shoulders have given her the excuses she still feels she needs, had given her somewhere to hide the truth.

She desperately wants nothing more than to be free; to escape the pressures of her plight and to turn to him for a change without requiring an explanation. To abandon the walls that contain her, walls that were fortified after surviving the harrowing circumstances of her life this year.

Without realizing it, Castle has been that shining beacon of light, a torch amongst the gray haze that cloaks each day. With every caress of skin, rasp of nail, taste of flesh, he has bestowed upon her the gift of adoring the world again. For reasons she will never understand, he has granted her the freedom to lose herself in the beauty that is _him_, and not once has he asked for anything in return, besides tomorrow.

The last twelve weeks have marked a new chapter for them, and while they are not there yet, are not _the couple _she fantasizes they will one day be, their story had been unfolding naturally. In the meantime, she had been clutching tightly to the dream that they were making progress, were one day going to make it, could almost be considered _together_. At least until today.

Although, if she is being completely honest with herself, she concludes that they have not reached the normal definition of being a couple. But she had embraced the fact that they have never concerned themselves with outside opinions before, have never really fitted into social expectations, and why should this be any different?

Until this moment, she has held fast to the knowledge that he loves her, that he was willing to wait for her. That he was content to crawl at their painstakingly tortoise like pace as they inched towards what she wants, what they both want. She had been holding onto the hope that if she just kept putting in the work, breaking down those walls, she could have a happy ending. Because, while she doesn't think she deserves to have one, Castle does, and for some reason he seems intent on sharing his life with her.

Yet she doubts that the sporadic nights together– regardless of how mind blowingly good– with whispered words of promise about holding back until she is ready, are going to be enough on this occasion. Their hopes may not be enough to hold them together and that notion gnaws at her as she stares down at the white stick.

When she went to the drugstore last night she should have paid more attention to what she was doing, had been in such a blind panic that she hadn't realized she had chosen the most dramatic one available. Rather than a simple negative or positive symbol, she had paid for the emoticon one, and now she waits for either a sad or smiling face to appear before her on the plastic device.

The time on the phone's stopwatch is ticking far too slowly, each extended second is splintering whatever shred of sanity she may have had. She is sure that there are couples that long for the upturned face to appear, but she is not one of them. Hell, she is not even part of a couple, is barely in a relationship, has been participating in a promising yet slightly dysfunctional partnership, and that concept crushes her a little bit more.

If it comes back positive, what is she going to tell him? How is she going to break this to him?

Dropping the pregnancy test onto the counter, Kate eyes herself wearily in the mirrors reflection. She's a grown woman for goodness sake, has been preventing this outcome all of her adult life. Yet three months after caving in to the lust that had coursed through her body, giving in to her emotions, panicking at how close they had come to never having a chance, and where does she find herself?

Possibly pregnant with her partner's child.

With one hand griping the hem of her sweatshirt, she tugs the material higher, revealing the flat plane of her abdomen. Moving without realizing it, her other hand glides across her skin, traces a circle onto the spot that could soon swell with her child, with Castle's child, and this thought causes a small yet joyful smile to climb across her lips. She could be having Castle's baby.

The tiny flicker of joy is quickly extinguished, barely ignites as a puff of apprehension escapes. Would Castle want another child?

While he speaks with the utmost fondness for his role as a father, they have never discussed the 'what ifs' that come with this situation. Would he want to repeat it again? Begin it all again with her?

And the worry has her fingers pressing sharply into her muscles. What will she do if she is pregnant and he doesn't want this baby? She's concerned that the love he confessed, while she lay on the grass, her blood spilling forth each time her heart contracted, is not enough to sustain them through this. What if he no longer wants her?

He has been in this predicament before, had been burned by Meredith, and there is a good chance that he will not want to go through this again. Diapers and screaming; no sleep and constant stress.

Shaking her head as her own internal argument spins out of control, her thoughts are doubtlessly being twisted and manipulated by the dark ramblings that creep up on her late at night. On her better days, she can distinguish the difference between good thoughts and destructive beliefs; today, though, is hardly going down as one of her better days.

Shoving the shirt lower in frustration, her movement causes the skin along her side to pull tight, and another uneasy realization crashes over her. Is she even well enough to carry a baby for nine months? Can her body, her heart sustain the both of them? There are some days where she hardly feels like she is able to place one foot in front of the other.

She needs to make a plan, needs to know her options, needs to talk about it with her partner; she owes him that. But first she needs to allow the timer to end, to conclude its countdown, so that she can see which face is declaring her result.

* * *

Castle wipes down the kitchen counter again, is stalling for time as he watches his daughter push her breakfast food around her plate, and he wonders why she has wasted the morning sitting hunched on top of the stool. Her attitude is beginning to concern him; worry over what she may have discovered is causing his heart to skip a beat.

He has tried to be discreet on the select occasions when he has stayed the night at Beckett's, but his daughter isn't blind, and he is dreading this conversation. How is he going to be able to explain what they are? How can he place a new definition on their past relationship, when he has no idea himself? Casual fling sounds far too tawdry for what they are doing; how they are slowly building on their partnership, progressing forward, letting each other in, if only briefly.

Kate was honest at the start; she isn't ready for them to be more just yet, her wall surrounds, keeps her emotionally separated from what they could be. But what they have is greater than just lust, and while she may not be ready to entertain the idea of advertising themselves as a happy couple in love; he is there. He is there waiting to be more with her, and in the meantime being together, even fleetingly, seeing her in a new light; the way her skin glistens with sweat, the way she hums when his tongue swirls along her ribs, is enough compensation.

He is glimpsing a far greater aspect to Beckett than just her physical side though, even if she is unaware of the information he is gathering. The way she giggles with delight; the first time catching him so completely by surprise that he had choked on his toothpaste. That when she is comfortable, when her guard is lowered, she has another layer, so many layers, that come forth, that he gets to witness, touch, love.

And with each passing day, he is seeing those bricks fall, leaving mere clouds of dust as she advances toward him. Toward what he hopes will one day be a life together, a life free of lies and hidden truths. But for now, he waits.

Cautiously he looks back over at his daughter, and he realizes being with Beckett has taught him a thing or two about waiting. He can see how he should try it in other aspects of his life; following rather than leading, being subtle rather than pushy, taking-

"Dad?"

Alexis' voice softly creeps through his inner ramblings and he turns so that he can face her fully. Peering across the counter, he witnesses her perplexed expression, and he replicates her features. He ponders once more over what has caused her forehead to crinkle like that, is anxious for her to open up and let him in. The strong knot that they formed as they made their way through the years together is fraying at the ends, and he is fiercely holding on to what is left.

"You've been wiping that one spot for like five minutes now."

His confusion clears up as he scrutinizes the area that has received an extra scrub, hardly thinks that it something that should worry her.

"Must have been a stubborn stain," he replies, while bending at the hips, his torso resting on the cool marble as his elbows dig into the hard surface, fingers lacing together to form a steeple in attempt to regain control of his emotions.

"You're not hungry?" He removes the question from his tone as much as he can, doesn't want her to feel that she is being patronized, being ambushed over breakfast, but he desperately wants to understand what is happening inside that intelligent mind of hers.

Alexis looks down at the plate, almost surprised by the fact that it sits in front of her, and she shakes her head to confirm a no. Her long red hair slips across her shoulders and his hand completes a movement perfected with time, smooths the strands away from her face, catches them behind her ear, and he sees the lost expression that spreads across her features.

"I just don't know what to do, Dad. I have no reason to go to school. I never planned on being there now, and everyone I know is focused on what they need to do to get into college. And I'm standing here, treading water. I don't even have Ash…"

Her rant overwhelms them both and as her sentence dies at the end, it gives him a chance to shift around the edge of the kitchen countertop so that he can be by her side. His solid frame wraps around her slight one, and he holds on tight, wants nothing more than to fix her self-doubt with a hug.

It kills him inside to see his child at such a loss, and he has no words to make it better, can only be here for her, a constant fixture that stands tall against the fear she must feel as everything surrounding her is slipping and sliding away. It has been a lot of years since teen drama had swallowed him whole, and he makes a mental note to speak to Beckett about it.

She consistently has such carefully constructed advice about how to deal with Alexis, about the balance that he needs to find within his daughter's life as she grows, the wings of independence spreading, wanting to expand so she can fly. But not today; today he squeezes a little harder in what he wishes was enough to ease her pain, ignores the relief that floods his system. It's wrong, but he is grateful that her anguish is unrelated to this thing he has with Beckett, the big secret he's been keeping.

* * *

"Sir, you might want to see this?" He shuffles on the spot as he stands before the large expensive desk, the cloth of his business suit rustling in the silence that greets him. The yellow envelope in his hand is clutched with more force than necessary, and it is wrinkling from the pressure expelled from his fingers. There's a thin line of sweat that is forming, a long line of beads across his hairline, and he resists the urge to use his sleeve to wipe his skin.

He despises being in this office, feels the hand of the devil inching its way up his spine as soon as his feet pass over threshold, but the information he has is important, could blow their carefully constructed plans clear out of the water, and that concerns him. He has spent too many hours constructing deals for this one piece of knowledge to destroy it all.

"What!" There is no question in the older man's tone; authority squishes any hint of a query. Settling back into the plush office chair, his impatience is clearly seen across his face and this look causes a tightness that runs the length of the nervous man's throat.

"Ummm… Detective Kate Beckett, as you know… as you ordered, Sir, is being watched." The staff member shifts onto each foot in an awkward dance of uncertainty. He really does not want to be the person bringing forth this newly obtained fact, and he speculates for a moment on why he is always lumbered as the bearer of bad news.

Yet as the office chair squeaks quietly, he gathers all the courage he has to say what needs to be said.

"She was photographed going into a drug store where she purchased a pregnancy test. Knowing that you would require the results of this test, her garbage was retrieved, and the device has been located." He finally sucks in a lungful of air, forgets in the need to breathe that he has yet to deliver the one fact that is probably the most important of all that he has to say.

He comprehends that it is not his job; he is merely a small cog in a much bigger wheel, but for an instant he feels sorry for the poor girl whose life is about to be upended all because of his next statement. All because her mother had been murdered, had made an unknowing enemy who continues to haunt her daughter.

"And?"

In his worry for Detective Beckett, he may have forgotten to verbalize the results, but the deadly voice that spits out the word clearly has not.

"Oh… it was positive, Senator Bracken. Kate Beckett is pregnant."

* * *

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_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews!_

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Nic; you make my words so much more than they are and encourage me to be a better writer xoxo_

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_I would love to hear your thoughts!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo

Sorry for the delay, my one shots got in the way!

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_I think I'm moving but I go nowhere, Yeah I know that everyone gets scared._

_But I've become what I can't be, Oh, do you see what I see..._

_._

* * *

The seat moves slightly as she uses one foot to push against the ground; sways herself gently back and forth as if the rocking motion could calm the turmoil that courses through her body. Asking Castle to meet her at the playground had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was here that they reconciled after she screwed up last time, and she hopes that the magic that had worked then will once again cast its spell upon the two of them.

She has been cloaked in a heavy shroud of fog ever since the little white device had revealed its secret; a happy face forming on the display. She had wept as she had clutched it in her hands; wept for the timing of it all, how utterly broken she still remains, barely a shadow of the woman she once was. She is scared that she will be nothing close to what this child deserves, and this child will deserve so much.

She has no particular memories of doing anything of importance in the last two days; had hidden in her home in a daze imagining scenario after scenario of the different ways today could possibly play out. Castle storming away? Castle accusing her of doing this deliberately?

Oddly enough she's finding it hard to envision any happier outcomes, despite everything she knows about him. He is a good, no a _great _man, but she could only dream of disastrous ways for this conversation to end. Finally she had given in, phoned him; it was a short, clipped conversation, and as petrified as she had been to make that call, her desire to end her horrible speculation had triumphed.

Staring down at the frost-covered ground, ice clinging determinedly to the grass in the cold early morning light, Kate gets lost in her thoughts; is taken aback when two shoes come into view, and she compels herself to take a deep breath. Her gaze travels slowly up the length of him. She knows his body better than she did three months ago, although not as well as she would like, and a pastel pink flushes her skin. She is blaming hormones, but the sight of him before her has her wanting to find the nearest secluded corner.

Yet as her stomach rolls dangerously, she realizes she may need that corner for less pleasurable reasons.

"Hey, Beckett. Is everything okay? On the phone you sounded…" He steps forward and the feet between them become inches as he squats down in front of her, his large hands curling around her calves, and her rocking motion comes to a halt.

"Are we– Is everything okay?" His eyes dart rapidly as he scans her features trying to read her mind, trying to work out what has caused her to avoid him, avoid _everything_ for the past two days.

"Yeah… well…" She has no idea how to do this, how to break the news to him, and the anxiety leaves her stomach, begins surging up the back of her throat. Maybe it is like pulling off a band aid; hard and fast, say it all in one go, just get it out.

"I'm pregnant."

There is nothing but eerie silence as he remains half seated before her; the only movement from him is the slight opening and closing of his mouth, and his fingers that squeeze against the thick material of her pants. She wishes he would say something, even if all he did was rage at her. The quiet standoff is scaring her more than any of the scenarios she had dreamed up.

"Castle?" she whispers his name, hesitation coming through clearly. Her teeth gnaw at the tender flash of her inner lip, her brow wrinkling as she holds his blank stare, and while she knows that his beautiful mind is running a hundred different thoughts through it, the glazed expression further increases her apprehension, and she tries again.

"Castle?"

Thankfully, this time when she says his name, a shudder races through his body as he is pulled from wherever he had drifted to, and he lunges forward unexpectedly. His body crashes into hers, his hands rapidly moving up her legs until her hips are enclosed in a primal, possessive grip. His mouth pushes sharply into hers, gaining access without her even realizing, the heat from his tongue setting her on fire as it sweeps inside, seeking, exploring, taking, and she closes her eyes, returning his frantic actions.

Of all the responses she had been expecting, making out heatedly in the middle of a children's playground was not one she had pictured.

Placing her hands against the fullness of his cheeks, she forces his head back, looks into his eyes. She needs to see those ocean blue depths; requires some clarification into what he is thinking in this moment.

"Castle?"

A low throaty chuckle escapes, filling the space, and she looks at him with confusion. Maybe her news has cracked him completely and this is the first stage of his insanity.

"You keep saying my name like that, Beckett." His explanation falls flat; her forehead creasing as she searches his features for a clue as to what she should say next, but it's Castle who makes the first move.

"You're really pregnant?"

Her head springs backwards as she hears his question and he must sense the stupidity of asking her such a thing. She would hardly drag him here and announce it if it wasn't true.

"I mean, how are you… when did you… damn, Beckett, you took my words." He laughs again as his head flops forward, his hair brushing her coat as he stares into her lap. He is careful, not placing too much force onto the area between her breasts, but he must feel the need to pause. She knows how overwhelming the news is, and she gives him a moment; her hands taking the opportunity to glide through his silky strands. Her fingertips trace along the hard shell of his skull and the repeated action hypnotizes them both; a sense of calm swirls gently through the air as they hold this position.

He speaks and although the question is muffled by the way his head is pointing down, his biceps framing her sides, he doesn't reposition, holds her tighter as his fingers interlock at the small of her back.

"I don't want this to come across as anything other than me supporting you one hundred percent, but have you thought about what you want to do?"

There is a part of her that wants to erupt at being asked such a thing, at the implication that there are alternatives, but he is right, there are options and she has thought of nothing _but_ what they are. It's been all she could focus on, except for coming up with the many ways he could hate her for causing this to happen. What it may mean for them. What they should do.

She nearly misses his movement, his head still resting delicately against her chest, but his finger slowly untangle themselves, arms shifting so that they now rest heavy on top of her thighs. One hand hesitantly makes its way between the sides of her coat, wriggles under the shirt she is wearing today. The sensation is barely there as he sweeps cool fingers along her skin, traces the area just above the edge of her pants, and her breath catches. She wants this more than anything. It's stupid and reckless and could possibly blow up in both their faces, but it's him and it's her and it's suddenly blazingly obvious that this child will be so loved regardless of the shaky circumstances that brought it to life.

"What do you want?" Her question has him lifting so that he can look at her once more, but as she sees the glistening of tears pooling in his lashes, she knows with certainty that her question is moot. This is the man who stood by his tiny daughter when her mother did not, this is the man who loves so wholly, and her visions of him turning and walking away seem so ridiculous now as she stares into his eyes.

He must see her reach this conclusion and a smile blossoms, takes ahold of his features as he tenderly lifts to brush his lips across her own. He gently slides his mouth against the fullness of her bottom lip, and she lets him in, lets him love her.

Breaking apart, he traces the length of her nose with his, skin sliding over skin as he declares, "One hundred percent, Kate. I promise whatever happens, I'm here, with you. I'm in this with you and the baby. Nothing will prevent me from standing by your side."

* * *

After having decided to make their way back to the loft by foot, they stroll slowly beside one another. A quietness settles between them as they each become consumed with their own thoughts.

The silence is almost reverent; two people each introspectively considering that their lives are going to be forged together by a new life. An unexpected pregnancy is hardly a light issue, is something that is going to weigh down heavily between them, at least until they both adjust to Kate's announcement.

Rick replays her words, hears them in his head as if she were again whispering them to him. '_I'm pregnant.' _He knows Beckett is on the pill; even without his stumbling enquiries on their first night, he has since seen her take it on the odd occasion he has stayed the night.

They haven't actually been together more than a dozen or so times and yet he has still managed to knock her up, and if she hadn't been walking alongside him, he may have been tempted to puff his chest out in caveman-like pride. Maybe that is his super power. Super sperm? And laughter erupts, rolls out of him until he is forced to stop. Hands clasp tightly against each knee he bends over, attempts to catch a breath in between the episodes of manic laughter that are periodically exploding from his mouth, and he senses Beckett come to a halt next to him.

He would control himself; he could, if only there was some way to remove the image from his head. Sperm swimming with capes attached to them, attacking Kate from within, and it all swells again, only now his laughter extends itself into a breathless, hacking sound. She shifts them both away from public eyes, pushes him toward the next alley.

Thankfully there is a nearby secluded dead end, and following her lead, Rick stumbles in her wake until he finds a crate to sit on. Collapsing, he focuses on returning to a more sane state of being; he really doesn't want the mother of his future child wondering if her announcement has been the thing that has completely unhinged him.

Raising his head until it falls back to rest on the bricks behind him, he lifts a hand to swipe away the moisture that now lies streaked against his cheeks, chuckles again at the thought that he had laughed so hard that he had cried. Concentrating on Kate, he attempts to weigh how much his little performance is going to cost him. He looks at her carefully, the way her arms are crossed loosely under her breasts, the one eyebrow that is climbing higher on her forehead and he concludes that the damage might not be too bad.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Castle?" Her words are serious, yet he has studied her facial expressions long enough to see the tug of her lips, the way she is fighting to keep a straight face and he knows she is finding humor in their current situation. One insane partner, down a deserted alleyway while unexpectedly pregnant; really, it does not get much funnier than that.

"I have super sperm."

One of her hands lifts so she can gently smack it against her own forehead, her wavy hair tumbling forward and he watches as her shoulders begin shaking; is happy to see that he is not the only one that finds that sentence hilarious.

"Castle!" If ever Beckett could whine, the way she says his name in that moment is as close as he thinks he'll get to hearing her do so, and he opens his mouth to reply when he hears it.

There is a metal click and both their heads turn as they realize they are no longer alone. A small, unkempt man dressed in an ill-fitting suit steps forward, his Glock pointed toward them, and Rick stands automatically, moves so his body bumps into hers. He cannot believe they are about to be robbed by some Wall Street junkie who is probably down on his luck and having a bad day.

Rick's body is flush with Kate's and he senses the instant that she goes for her gun, knows only seconds after her that she is not wearing it. No doubt being armed to meet him had seemed like a bad idea; she was probably worried that if he were to say something stupid she may have been tempted to shoot the father of her unborn child. The last thing she would have expected is to find herself staring down the barrel of someone else's weapon.

"Look, man. I have a nice watch, money; you're welcome to it all. You don't need the gun." Rick hopes his voice is coming out stronger than he feels, and with Beckett tensing, ready for a fight beside him, he needs to calm everyone down.

He will not be living through a repeat performance of her shooting. Not if he has any say about how this unfolds.

However, as the man calmly takes another step toward them, Rick begins to doubt that they are, in fact, being robbed.

"I'm not here for your money, Mr. Castle. I'm here for your partner and her unborn child." As he speaks, he aims lower, no longer training the weapon on their heads; he now targets Kate's stomach, and Rick comes to the shocking realization. This isn't some random occurrence. This is another attempt on Kate's life. On their child's life.

* * *

.

_._

_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews!_

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Nic; you make my words so much more than they are and encourage me to be a better writer xoxo_

_._

_I would love to hear your thoughts!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo

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_I started running but there's no where to run to, I sat down on the street took a look at myself.  
Said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell, Say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to._

_._

* * *

With a gun trained on Kate and their unborn child, the three of them stand at an impasse, and Rick comprehends with a tragic sense of dread that the deal he thought was still in play has somehow fallen to pieces; no one is safe and he has to know why.

"How do you know about the baby? Why now? What about-"

He's not really known for his silence, so when the questions start coming, he can't seem to pick just one, and as the weapon thankfully leaves Beckett and is pointed at him, he tries to think of more things to say. If the gun is cast in his direction, if the man's attention is focused on what he is saying then it is not on Kate or his baby, and that's a sacrifice he is more than willing to make.

"Shut up! Shut up!"

The attacker shouts with animosity, stopping Castle's queries mid sentence. The noise bouncing off the bricks inside the enclosed area, and the partners flinch as one. Their assailant's voice trembles in spite of its volume, much like the Glock in his hand, the metal piece violently shaking.

It is not the first time Castle and Beckett have come face to face with assassins from the Dragon's hired team; they are familiar with the cool, calm, collectedness of these men.

Yet as Rick critically inspects the man in the suit, observing the finer details, he can't help but think those killers must be on vacation today, because there is no comparison between the likes of Lockwood and the man currently threatening their lives. Apparently, they have been set upon by the hit squad's scared little brother, and Castle is almost more frightened; this man may lack the ruthlessness that had characterized someone like Coonan, but he's skittish, unpredictable, and therefore still deadly.

The silence now surrounding them adds to the precautious nature of their plight and as the gun begins to dart uncontrollably between the two partners, Castle lowers his opinion again. Maybe a distant cousin in the family of assassins.

"Look, I think before you kill us we have the right to know why? Why is this happening? Why now?" Castle's hands gesture violently in irritation. "What's happened to the deal?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Rick realizes what he has said; his secret is out and there's no doubt in his mind that there will be dangerous consequences for revealing something like that to his partner.

He is not surprised when he senses Beckett shifting her body, directing her attention toward him, but _damn,_ he needs her to stay focused on the man in front of them, ignore his revelation, at least until they can both get out of this situation.

Taking a risk, Castle looks across to her for a second; sees the furrows that are deepening along her forehead, the adorable line that appears between her eyes when she becomes agitated. Her lips are squeezed together until they almost disappear, and he comprehends that this is bad.

But seriously, the circumstances that they are dealing with now really need to take precedence over her need to kill him.

Giving her his best puppy dog look, Castle's eyes subtly flick back to the man before them, reminding her that they have bigger issues to live through, and while her stare narrows further, she thankfully angles her head so it is now directed at the other man in the alleyway.

Now that her attention is back to where it needs to be, he concentrates on getting some answers.

"Tell us, how do you know about the pregnancy? Even I didn't know until today?" Rick really didn't mean for the last part to come out as a whine, but as Beckett gives a huff of annoyance beside him, he guesses that it sounded worse than he had intended.

"Mr. Castle, is that really your biggest gripe? That we found out about your unborn child before you did?" There's a hint of glee in the hit man's voice that makes Castle's blood boil and he tries not to react.

"You'd probably be interested to know that your partner bought the test Thursday night. That's three whole nights ago! I'm guessing you're lucky to know at all considering that she's been hiding it from you for days!"

Rick compels himself not to look at Kate, ignores the information about the time that has passed; he was told _eventually_, and instead he focuses on the fact that they knew she had bought a test. They knew the _precise _moment that she brought the test.

"You've been following me around?" The heat in Beckett's tone would be enough to strip paint and Rick almost takes a step away; having seen the damage she can do when aggravated, he kind of wants to ensure that he doesn't get caught in the crossfire.

"Isn't it enough that you've tried to destroy my life? Attempted to kill me? Killed others in your quest to bury the truth? Now you're stalking me? Watching my every move, even when I go to the _drug store_?"

Castle's mouth opens as he goes to point out that being followed isn't really in comparison to the hell that was their lives that day in the cemetery, but a heel of her shoe shifts, rests uncomfortable on top of his toes, and he shuts his lips accordingly. She is right, now is not a good time to focus on the inaccuracies of her question.

"Look, enough talking. Enough questions. Fact is, the boss doesn't want you roaming the streets now that you are pregnant; he knows what loose cannons mothers can be. He doesn't need you deciding to get in the way. He doesn't need you starting up the investigation. The chance that you'd take another run at your mother's case because of this child is too risky. So, the deal is off!"

A hush descends as the two partners attempt to absorb this information, and Rick silently agrees with the small man before them. There'd be no way he would have continued the slow pace of his private investigation with a baby on the way, especially when a risky truce is all that was keeping Kate alive. Until now.

"On your knees."

Apparently, chitchat time is over and Castle racks his brain for a way out. But for all the times he has been lucky enough to dream up escape plans from instances like this, today his mind is overloaded with all the information it has received in the last few hours, and nothing is forth coming.

This cannot be how their story ends.

Lifting a hand, he searches for Kate's. His skin gliding tenderly over hers until he can interlock their fingers, until they are joined as one, and he finds a sense of poetry in their stance. Standing side-by-side; staring down evil together.

Suddenly everything goes to hell, and in a tale that would be more suited to one of his books, there are three minutes of noise, narrow escapes, and the understanding that he has one hell of a strong partner, even if his heart may never be the same again after living through it.

* * *

Kate feels Castle's fingers move in between hers and she wants nothing more than to turn and look at him, wants his face to be the last that she sees, but there is no way in hell she is giving the rat bastard in front of her the satisfaction.

She will stand tall until the end.

Yet as she maintains her forward position, staring straight ahead in defiance, it is no longer the gunman that has her attention. At the entrance to the alleyway, she notices a lone figure passing by. While normally she would never involve another person in her mess, even from this distance she can see the navy blue of the man's uniform. She has no idea how they came to be this fortunate. She's sure that if she asked Castle, he would know the ratio of patrol officers to square miles of city; in this moment she doesn't have time for those kinds of thoughts, is just grateful for the apparent change in their luck. All she needs is to gain his attention.

"FIRE!"

She yells the one word loud and clear; her voice ricocheting in the narrow space, vibrating along the bricks, and she sees the member of the NYPD come to a halt, turn and approach the source of the noise.

Kate is thankful that she was level headed enough to use a word that would get the officer's attention, while confusing their gunman to no end. He lowers the weapon a fraction as he gazes at her in utter bewilderment; whatever he thought her reaction might be to their current stalemate, screaming nonsensical one-liners is not it.

She just needs him to lower the Glock a little bit more for her to have a better chance of this ending well, yet the patrol man must be green, fresh out of the academy and he continues to approach them slowly, his own weapon still tucked uselessly at his hip. He is no help at all.

It's only a small noise, a sound that would normally go unnoticed in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, but the rookie's foot gently knocks into a discarded soda can and the metal clatters annoyingly as it rolls along the bricks. It's just enough of a noise that it's noticed by the highly-strung mad man. He pivots in the cop's direction.

They will never know if what happened next was just bad luck; a mistimed reaction that occurred because of the anxiety that was no doubt twisting through the assailant's veins, or whether he had meant to take the shoot. Either way, as the gun swings wide towards the officer, it goes off with a noise that will haunt Kate for the rest of her life. She knows what it is to be on the receiving end of a bullet; now she has the sound effects to go with that horrendous experience.

She knows in that fraction of a second that she has to force it all to one side, compartmentalize everything that has happened, everything that is happening, and concentrate on disarming the man before her.

Lunging for his extended right hand, she twists the gun free, but she is surprised by the hidden strength that is contained in his grip, and while his hand does bend toward himself, he manages to maintain his hold.

Slamming her arm against the fingers that are clutched tight to the Glock, she senses a slight movement, a tiny loosening of his muscles, but it is nowhere near enough for her to gain control of the gun, and she can feel a thread of panic tightening around her heart as she tries again.

This time her actions bend his wrist further into itself, and she notes in the odd way you do in a life and death battle, the detail of the situation. That his hand appears puppet like in the way that it is angled, as if he is aiming the gun at himself, and it continues to curve unnaturally while she bizarrely wonders why she hasn't heard the snapping of bone.

In her mind, it feels like it has been hours since they had begun this dance, a standoff that has yet to resolve itself, and she attempts again to apply more strength against his grasp.

It is the sound so close to her body that pierces her heart, which breaks it apart; another gunshot that sends torrents of shivers along her spine. She becomes aware that she has no idea where Castle is, and that thought has her focus shifting from the man in front of her as she twists to scan the space behind.

All there is- is space.

Taking a step back, away from the gunman, fear floods her blood stream, every beat of her heart thunders in her ears, her eyes darting back and forth over the area where her partner had been. There's nothing and she can't breathe.

It is not until hands grip her shoulders, shaking her hard that she realizes she can't hear a thing, had not heard his approaching footsteps. The only sound is a ringing that comes with being too close to the gun as it was fired and she wonders what else she has missed.

Pivoting on the spot, she moves inside his grip, her eyes seeing for the first time that it is Castle that's holding her; his face next to hers, his mouth opening wide. He seems to be yelling at her, and she heavily lifts a finger to point toward her ear. Shaking her head, confusion clouds his features and she stupidly comprehends that just because she can't hear anything doesn't mean his senses have been affected.

"I can't hear you. Give me a moment."

Understanding dawns on him, and he gives a stiff nod in reply before grabbing ahold of her hand and jerking them both toward the entrance. Not appreciating his rough movements, she tugs back, leans against the propulsion forward.

Seeing her resistance, his lips begin comically dancing but the ringing in her ears continues and she shrugs again at the situation, at the fact she has no idea what he is so worked up about.

Waving his hand it begins jerking wildly, and as she twists to stare at his outstretched appendage, she realizes she had been so panicked over the gunshot and his disappearance, she has forgotten about the gunman.

Surprisingly, he lies in a pool of his own blood, dead on the ground, and it occurs to her that in their scuffle the gun had gone off. The bullet she had thought had taken Castle from her has killed the man instead.

Staring down at her hands, she finds it strange that they remain clean.

Her actions must prompt something in Castle's and he is suddenly approaching the man, bends over the deceased, his shirt fisted from the inside. Her partner reaches for the gun and in mimicking actions that he has seen in more than one movie, he wipes the weapon clean. Clean of her fingerprints.

_Shit_. She just shot a man.

Once again, Castle is taking her hand, forcing her away from the scene, but as she passes the patrol officer, her feet come to a stop once more. Even being so many yards away she can see the bullets trajectory, through and through at the base of his neck. Inches either side and it would have missed him.

"He was dead instantly."

Her head turns toward Castle, horror bleeding through her body and while his words seem far away, she can at least hear him. Although it is hardly helping her at the moment.

Her eyes lift from the tragedy before them, latch on to Rick's as she feels the tears tumbling free. More lives that have been destroyed because of her, because of her mother's case and it splinters her from inside. Will this never end? Will this haunt her forever? Become her family's legacy? The legacy she leaves for her own child?

"Beckett…"

Both of his hands frame her face as he gives her no other choice but to see him, to listen to his words.

"This is not your fault. Understand. This is their fault. But we need to get going. Now, Kate. This whole situation is going to come crashing down on our heads. They will want to pin this on you, Kate. I won't let them, let them tear us apart, not now, especially with the baby on the way."

His words slowly make their way through the sound of her heart, the whoosh that resonates too loudly inside her eardrums, the unnerving staccato that drowns out all of her thoughts. Her hand clutches the material of her shirt, feels the flat plains of her abdomen. The smooth skin which will soon stretch, expand with their child, and yet everything inside her rebels against the thought of leaving, deserting the alleyway, the two bodies that lie dead.

It is all is too much and she can't think; can feel the tingling in her fingers, the shortness of breath, the line of sweat that is forming at her hairline; she is on the verge of another panic attack. She needs to trust her partner, follow his lead for a change, for the sake of getting out of here in on piece, to protect their unborn child. What other choice does she have? What choice does their growing family have?

* * *

_._

_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews!_

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Nic; you make my words so much more than they are and encourage me to be a better writer xoxo_

_._

_I would love to hear your thoughts!_


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

Sorry this is late, me and my imagination had to write in between, lol.

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_Under the surface, we're all just the same, Follow me darling, for you I'll be brave,_

_Oh, Love._

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* * *

She watches Castle dart around his bedroom, haphazardly rummaging through the drawers, pulling clothes out. Each piece is stared at expressionlessly before it's dropped back or thrown over his shoulder in the direction of the bed. He has two suitcases open, ready, waiting. But what she wishes he would do is _stop_, just for a moment, so they can discuss what he is thinking.

She'd been dragged out of the alleyway in shock, reeling at how close they had come to having their lives taken, to losing everything. She'd been forced to wave off any proper conversation as they'd power walked the final blocks to his loft, his eyes watching and second guessing everyone in paranoia. While the ringing in her ears had been subsiding, Castle would have needed to yell more than speak and she didn't want the whole of SoHo hearing their conversation.

She still can't get her head around what has gone down. The last few hours are a jumbled mess inside her mind and as she squeezes her fingers against her forehead, attempts to push down the rising headache, she finally senses Castle coming to a halt.

The edge of his chin nudges her hand away; his mouth peppering kisses against the skin above her eyes and she lists into the sensation. He must feel her response, the sag of her body, her shoulders deflating, and she's immediately enveloped within his arms as they circle around her. Holding her close they melt into each other. While they may not have a _conventional _relationship, she can appreciate how much being inside his solid frames clears everything away, even if it is for just a second.

"We need to get moving, Beckett."

He says the words as if she understands what he's talking about, but in all honesty, she has no idea what is occurring, what his thought process is. Sliding her arms along his waist, the material of his suit smooth against her skin, she continues until her fingers can interlock at the base of his spine. Containing him inside her own embrace, she keeps him still so she can ask. "I don't understand what you are doing, Castle. What is happening? 'Cause I'm still trying to work out what went down in the alleyway."

She should never have let him push her out of there; had been disorientated and upset over what she was responsible for, panicked over all that was at risk, and she had allowed Castle to grab her hand and take her away. Now though, the cop in her wants to go back, explain the circumstances surrounding the two dead bodies, work the crime scene like it was any other day.

Granted, even she can see the ludicrousness of that thought. Even if they had stuck around, Internal Affairs would have been quickly crawling up her ass over her involvement in the gunman's shooting and a part of her wonders what else would have gone wrong if they had stayed. She wonders how far the Dragon can reach. Would he be able to pin this on her? Make it appear that she was completely to blame? Could he pull enough strings to have her locked up? It isn't like with Coonan; Montgomery and everyone else there as witnesses, this time it had just been her and Castle.

But she doesn't run, at least not when it comes to her job.

Castle- bringing her into the present- steps out of her arms, eyes her wearily before he edges his way to her left, goes back to his frantic packing, and she almost misses his words as they drift out of the closet.

"We need to go away for a couple of days. Just put some distance between us and the city. At least until we can work out what our next step is. I just... need to think and I can't at the moment."

Kate shakes her head in confusion, and the tension that had been rising inside her skull becomes a dull throb; a steady beat of anguish that matches the one inside her heart.

"Castle, we can't just pack up and disappear. There are going to be consequences. Consequences that I need to deal with."

Her statement brings about his reappearance and she gazes at him; he's rigid against the doorframe, his fingers clenching, disappearing inside the cloth of his pants, the material crinkling as he exerts all his frustration onto it. Standing there, staring, his eyes drilling into hers, he begins his tirade.

"I heard the gun go off as the two of you were wrestling over it; even crouched down over the dead officer, I could still sense the moment when that trigger was pulled. And I had no way of knowing which way it was pointed. Do you realize that, Kate? For the longest seconds of my life, _yet again_, I was left wondering if a bullet had taken your life. Except this time it's not just _your_ life."

His arm sweeps low in the direction of her abdomen, and her eyes close in memory. She had thought the same thing. Had twisted toward where she last saw Castle standing, only to find the area vacant, had panicked over what that may have meant.

He's in front of her again, his body closing the small gap. His fingers sliding under her shirt, palming the area that will soon expand, swell, their child growing inside of her, and she collapses against him.

"I can't think at the moment, Kate. Everything is..."

His words trail but she knows. Everything feels as if it is closing in on them and time is moving too fast; sand slipping through her fingers regardless of how much she squeezes tight. She understands; she _does_; his need to remove themselves from it all, even if she doesn't agree with it.

"If it were just us, Kate, then I would stand and fight by your side, but it's not." His hand pushes against the taunt skin of her stomach, as if he could reassure their baby that he is here, that he isn't going anywhere. "I won't let them take this from us."

* * *

Zipping one of the suitcases closed, he heads toward the office, eyes dancing wildly over his desk; he grabs a vast array of electronics he may or may not need. He is beyond making decisions at this point- is going with a more is better approach. Pivoting, he backtracks, throwing them inside the open case before pausing for a moment, and looking to where his partner sits. She's perched on the other side of his bed, thumb in her mouth as she gnaws at the nail, and everything about her in this moment bleeds with how exhausted she must be. Shoulders slumped, head down, and his heart breaks for what this is doing to her, the heavy cost that she is paying for his actions long ago.

He has cursed himself repeatedly for _that _day. For going to Esposito for help, for opening her mother's file. He has had to shoulder the guilt, knows that he is responsible for so much of what has happened. He holds himself to blame, but he won't let this be taken from him. Now that he has her, that they have a baby on the way; there is nothing he will _not _do to protect his family.

Moving closer, he bends down, brushing a kiss into her hair, a fleeting graze of his lips; the need to touch her overwhelming him. Yet he forces himself back into the office. They don't _do _affection; their physical contact over the last twelve weeks has been restricted to the bed, or the back of doors, or that one time in the bath... Giving himself a shake, lest the flashbacks awaken more than just his memory, he opens the safe and begins emptying it of its contents.

His mother may have laughed when he restocked the small space to include over fifty thousand dollars, but as he grasps the hundred dollar bills in his hands, he no longer finds it funny. At least some of the money will keep them out of trouble for the next couple of days, and he heads back into the room, throws it all in.

Plenty more where that came from.

Just as the last of the cash thumps itself onto his laptop, he hears the front door opening. The loud movements indicating that someone has returned. It is most likely his daughter, and the feeling of panic crashes into him, _again_.

He has been so focused on their near miss, on escaping with their lives, that his plan to get away may have been temporality short sighted when it came to his first-born. Beckett seems to be playing along with him; after this morning's events she's apparently willing to indulge him in a couple of days away. Either that or what has happened has left her in such a state of shock that she's prepared to follow his lead for a change. But his daughter, on the other hand, is going to be a different issue all together.

Exiting his bedroom, he ambushes her from the side. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he's thankful to be alive, to still able to do this. Yet, unaware of his frame of mind, she squirms in the way she does. Her mock indignation over being mauled by her father apparent, while secretly she relishes the attention. Or that's what he tells himself, anyhow.

"I have a surprise. But I need you packed for a couple of days. And I need you to do it now." Forcing a lightness into his tone that he doesn't feel, he puts on an air about his statement as if he has something planned, something exciting, something other than piling her in the car with Beckett as soon as possible and heading for the hills.

Alexis is smiling up at him, perfect teeth gleaming as she hears all the pseudo excitement he is attempting to create, and her mouth opens. She no doubt has questions; she always has questions but he can't think. He is struggling to just hold it together and he cuts in before she can start.

"Less than five minutes, Alexis. Seriously. If you aren't at the door by then I'll finish packing for you."

Her eyebrows knit and he realizes too late that he has forgotten to take the threat out of his tone; has to slap on the most dazzling smile imaginable to win her back over.

"Just kidding, my dearest daughter. But really, five minutes. At the door!" He turns away from her then, heading back into his room, his exit preventing any further conversation, but it also prevents him from breaking down in front of her. His psyche is tethering on the razor edge above an abyss. Each minute that passes leaves him tipping forward, staring down at too many dark possibilities. That the Dragon's people will come here next. Finish the job. Destroy his family.

Seeing Beckett angrily sweeping under her eyes with the back of her hand, he comprehends that they are both about to fall apart- crash and burn spectacularly. Squatting down before her, he mimics his earlier position from the swings and repeating his actions, he lifts a hand so that it wiggles under her shirt, tracing along her skin.

"There's a Lion King quote about having no worries, but I think for this occasion I should quote Lilo and Stitch; 'family means nobody gets left behind'." While pressing a little firmer, wanting his intentions clear, he whispers, "We're gonna be a family, Kate. And I know that scares you, but it's not something you can run from. Not now."

His free hand rises until it can anchor itself at the base of her neck, tugging firmly until the gap between them narrows and their mouths meet; feather-like kisses at first, before the embers begin to burn, lips opening, tongues exploring.

Dragging himself back, his forehead finds its place against hers, and he focuses on getting a full breath of air in. His lungs laboring thanks to their interlude. Beckett's always had an ability to take his breath away, and now she can do it literally as well as figuratively.

"Castle, all it takes is faith and trust."

He smiles at her words, shifting so he can grab both of her hands, pulling them up so that they can stand before each other; he never figured her as a Peter Pan fan and he can't help but want to know why.

She smiles, even if it is only a little climb of her lips, and she beats him to the punch, must see the questions lurking in his features.

"I always did have a thing for boys who can't act their age."

She winks before planting a quick kiss across his cheek, detaching herself to grab a suitcase, and pushing down the spark of glee that wants to escape, he retrieves the other one. He relishes the moments when his words are able to turn a situation around, bring a bit of light to the heaviness that envelops their lives sometimes.

Watching her leave, he wants nothing more than to grab the heavy case from her, admonish her for carrying the weighted item given her pregnancy, but the desire to live long enough to see the baby has him biting down on his own tongue to stay silent. He would bet his life's savings that she wouldn't see things from his point of view; his manly need to take care of her would no doubt come across as more nethanderthal than gentleman.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she questions his lack of movement with her time honored, "You comin', Castle?" And it almost feels like any other day at the precinct, rather than an impromptu road trip, as they escape from the city. Escape from another hit on her life.

* * *

Sitting inside Castle's Mercedes, Kate sneaks a glance into the back seat once more. A fleeting peek between her lashes. They are less than a block from her apartment, and besides the shocked, "_What's she doing here_?" Alexis has yet to utter a word, which only adds to Kate's current unease. Gives her something else to worry about.

Apparently finding the detective sitting in the passenger seat of her father's car has left the younger girl without words and Kate again looks back. Witnessing the stormy expression that is continuing to build on Alexis' features, she changes her mind; this quiet may not be a bad thing. She may not be ready to hear what Alexis has to say. The relationship between the pair has been _strained _since Kate had returned to their lives from her self-imposed hiatus. In the few instances when they have been in a room together Castle has been a loud buffer between them. Today though, there's nothing but a thick stillness between all three.

Castle's short explanation of "Beckett's coming too," had been met with a simple huff and deadly silence; the red head had stood her ground by the car's back door, and if it wasn't for Castle gently but firmly pushing her into the seat, they may still be standing there right now.

Focused intently on Alexis, Kate misses the drama as they turn onto her street. Cars are standing idle in the middle of the road, and she cranes her head inside the vehicle to see what the issue is. Having very little luck, Kate frees herself from the seatbelt, while Castle reads her thoughts and opens the sunroof, she lifts herself through the gap that is created.

There are ambulances parked haphazardly in front of her building; fire trucks and patrol cars are dotted in between. Inspecting the scene, icy fingers of dread crawl along her spine. Whatever has happened, it's not good.

Sensing movement below her, Kate watches as Castle follows her actions, except instead of going up, he gets out, and staying perched high in her spot, she sees him approach a man who's standing at the scene.

Rick converses easily with him, before suddenly going still. Twisting in her direction, they stare at one another. It's only for a second but it's all she needs to see the horror contained inside his normally bright blue eyes, and she drops heavily into her seat.

Diving in next to her, skin void of any color, Castle jerks hard at his seat belt while simultaneously moving the car back as he attempts to get them out of the gridlock they are stuck in.

Darting his head dangerously between the others on the road and Kate, the tension escalates. Sitting there stunned, she's forced to wait for an explanation.

"Put your seatbelt on!"

He growls the words low and it is not the information she was expecting, can only manage a "_huh_" in reply.

"Put… your… seatbelt… on."

She didn't think it was possible but his voice descends even lower; spacing his words out, he inhales deeply between each one, and she recognizes he is trying to calm himself down.

His body twists in its seat as he succeeds in inching the car out of the snare of traffic, his eyes settling on his daughter for a moment before sliding back to her.

Right. It's bad enough that he doesn't want to say anything in front of his child and this does little to curb the anxiety that is coiling around her heart. Her apprehension escalates and she holds her breath, readies herself for the bombshell he's about to drop.

Finally sensing the questioning glare she is boring into him, he sneaks another glance behind him before concentrating on her; he pauses as the outside world melts away, and a single word trembles between them.

"Fire."

* * *

_._

_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews! Mayor hugs for getting past 100! _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo for ignoring her NaNo to help make this amazing and Jamie who ignored her thanksgiving; you girls rock xoxo_

_And to LordofKavaka and AnnaCastleFan for the song help!_

_._

_I would love to hear your thoughts!_

_._


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter six

.

Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

.

_There's __a __log __on __the __fire__ and __it __burns__, __like__ me __for __you__._

_Tomorrow__ comes __with __one__ desire, __to __take __me __away__._

_._

* * *

Monotonous scenery flashes by; buildings and skyscrapers have given way to trees and the occasional herd of sheep. No one in the car has a clear idea of how many hours it has been, or how long the three of them have been sitting quietly. Kate doesn't even know where exactly Castle is taking them; his driving has been sporadic; a mixture of straight lines followed by a series of twists and turns. And it's slowly making her crazy.

Once the initial shock over her apartment's destruction, or, _possible _destruction had receded, her first thought was to call the boys and see what the hell was going on. But Castle had threatened to throw the phone out the window if he saw it and considering his state of mind at the moment, she actually believes he might follow through.

His request to put a couple of hours between them and the city before she talks to the boys seems paranoid, but it is the theme of today. She did just live through her own assassination attempt, _again_, so she's willing to concede to his point. Or rather, she had been willing, but now she wants some answers. The need to gather all the facts, allow the information to percolate, itches under her skin, her fingers tapping incessantly on the material of her pants. She hates being out of the loop, hates not knowing things.

"I'm going to give Espo a call. See if there is anything." Kate twists in her seat, glancing at the sullen teenager behind her. Alexis has her headphones in, head dipping occasionally in time to the music, and she appears to be ignoring the older pair entirely.

Taking the red head's behavior as a win, a sign that she may not be overheard, Kate continues, "See if he knows about my apartment and what… went down in the alleyway."

She can't bring herself to say what she intended, her head shaking at her own stupidity. Two men are dead and as a homicide cop this is hardly a topic of conversation that she hasn't had before. Except both of those men are dead because of her, and it's a weight she uncomfortably bears. The guilt of fleeing from the crime scene, justified or not, sits stiffly across her shoulders, the heaviness pushing her down, and she pulls the white phone out of her pant pocket.

She may have been foolish enough to walk out of her house this morning sans her gun, but at least she remembered her wallet and phone.

Activating the call, she brings it up to her ear, feels Castle reaching across the console so he can lay his hand on her thigh, absorbing some of the weight that is crashing into her. It steadies her emotions, he steadies _her_. Throwing yet another look at the backseat of the car she ensures that they are not being watched, wants to avoid adding their secret to the drama of today. Thankfully, Alexis maintains her unfocused stare out the window, and Kate slides her fingers in between his, curling them into his palm while she attempts to work out what in the world she can say to Esposito in light of what has happened.

As Castle gently squeezes her fingers, she throws him a reassuring smile. They may not have done casual touching before, but she's beginning to relish the little moments when he invades her space. It lets her know that she is not alone in this, and she tightens her grip; hopefully he knows that he is not alone either.

"Yo, Beckett, where the hell are you?"

One sentence into this conversation and it's already heading downhill. Sucking in a short breath, she asks, "Why? What's happened?"

There's a pause on Espo's end, and Kate can picture him weaving through the others, finding a quiet corner to break the unwanted news to her. Whatever comes next, it's not going to be good, and she exhales loudly.

"There's been a fire, Chica… everything's been destroyed at your place."

His confirmation of what she already suspected slices through her. All the things she loves, had painstakingly purchased since she was in this position last time, have been destroyed again, and she can't help but ask, "Was anything salvageable?"

Even across the distance she can picture him shaking his head, the way it would dip down in pain for her, and she wishes she were back in the city, even if it was just to see for herself the damage that was done.

"I haven't been over. Gates is up our asses at the moment, but LT snuck out for you and he says there's really nothing left."

Her eyes close, slumping low in her seat as the truth settles. Detaching her hand from Castle's, she lifts it in order for her to grasp her mother's wedding ring, the hard metal reminding her of what she could have lost in the alleyway today.

Considering all that has happened, maybe not seeing the destruction of her home is a good thing. She barely handled the contained damage that occurred two years ago. Imagining what it looks like this time is one thing, actually seeing all her things burnt to embers could shatter her at this point. She breathes in, focusing on inhaling and exhaling slowly, but she's having trouble keeping it together. Hormones or not, she really wants to curl in a hot bath and cry it out, but Javier's voice brings her back in focus.

"So where are you?"

Looking out the window she sees nothing that really gives an indication of where in the world they are, and she had stopped paying attention to Castle's erratic driving long ago. She now knows why she usually drives; not being in control of their destination is slowly eating at her.

"We're heading out of the city. There was an incident, and I need you to keep an eye on it for me."

"Damn it, Beckett, what the hell is happening here?" Esposito's voice comes through the line as a harsh whisper and she cringes, sensing his frustration.

"We're fine, but a cop got shot and killed by a gunman. Then in the struggle for his weapon it discharged and he was killed instantly." Kate attempts to remove herself from the words, but it does no good. She can hear the noise as the weapon fired, the panic that swelled as she recalls looking for Castle.

"Shit."

It's one word, but Espo sums up her day, the last couple of days in fact, and she realizes that the boys have no idea what else has occurred; they had been purposely left in the dark over her and Castle's… _thing_.

"And who is we, Beckett?"

She should have realized her slip of tongue would be heard, but she figures the truth is going to come out eventually. Considering her thin frame this baby will look like someone has strapped a watermelon to her stomach by the end.

"Ummm, Castle was with me. Is with me." She hopes being vague may prevent some of the innuendo that her partner is always happy to insert, especially considering the man in question is sitting next to her, listening in, and she is not leaving herself open like that. Combine that with the fact that she has never really been the one to offer herself up as office gossip, and well…

"Oh, really?" There's a leer in Espo's tone that would earn him a pointed glare, if she could actually see him, and Kate's almost tempted to hang up and phone Ryan, instruct him to deliver one on her behalf. Not that Ryan can actually glare with any heat.

"Can you focus on the _actual _important facts here, Espo? I need you to be my eyes and ears until we get back to the city. Castle thinks we need to lay low for a couple of days."

She remembers then; she needs to question her partner about exactly what he knows, because in the alleyway, he sure seemed to understand more about the situation than he was willing to let on. The word _deal _glows, highlighted in her mind, but with everything that has happened since, all her enquiries have had to be pushed aside.

"Okay, Chica. Calm down. Considering your apartment, the dude is probably right. Lay low. We'll cover you from this end."

Kate nods, mutters a quick thanks and hangs up, staring at the phone for answers that it doesn't hold. Not knowing what is happening and being away from her normal stomping ground is frustrating her no end. If she is honest with herself, she can't see how a couple of days hiding from the reality of the situation is going to help. They are still going to have to head back, face the consequences of actions she really just wants to avoid. Doesn't want to avoid. Maybe she really has no idea what she wants anymore?

Pushing the phone back into her pocket, her hand lingers on her shirt. If the unseen forces surrounding her mother's case are after her, after her baby, what in the world can she do to stop them from getting what they want? What lengths is she prepared to go to, in order for her child to be safe?

Without turning her head, she inspects the man next to her from the corner of her eye. What lengths will he go to, to protect his child? Changing position in the back seat, Alexis shifts behind Kate, and it reminds her - for him, for the both of them, there are now _children_ depending on the pair, _children_ to be kept safe.

* * *

Castle can't help but replay Beckett's phone call in his mind; the way she had sounded utterly heartbroken as she tried to keep it together while talking to Espo. By his reckoning, it has been nearly an hour since she had made the call- an hour without any movement from his partner.

After putting her phone away, she had raised her legs onto the seat, bare toes exposed after she had kicked off her heels, and wrapping her arms around herself, she had curled into a ball, eyes no doubt staring out the window, internally trying to deal with the new information.

He doesn't begrudge her coping mechanisms, well not too much, but he wishes she would talk to him, share with him what is going through her mind. To hear that once again, she has lost everything, that another madman has taken all that she treasures, has lain waste to her life, tears at his heart. He can't imagine what it is doing to her.

Well, he can imagine, he's just not liking the scenarios that he is coming up with. Demanding that he turn the car around and head home is the winner out of them all, and he doesn't know what he will do if those are the next words out of her mouth.

He has been running today's events through his head, and indeed, all the events that surround Johanna Beckett's murder and his conclusions are not very satisfying. What he really needs to do is talk to the mysterious man again, and for the thousandth time since he received that call, he wishes there was some way to contact the shadowy figure rather than wait for him to make contact again.

Lost in his contemplations, Castle doesn't notice the other car's approach until it is nearly too late, until it becomes obvious that its intentions are not that of the average vehicle.

As it drives along faster than what's considered safe, he watches it. Eyes it warily as it speeds up to pass the Mercedes, apparently trying to overtake, yet it pauses, keeps pace next to them. Without warning, the car swerves. The front panel of the other vehicle hits their back passenger door and Rick is forced to grip the steering wheel hard to prevent them from spinning out of control. He can hear Alexis screaming in the back and for a second he forgets what side of the car she is on. He experiences another heart stopping moment when he thinks she has been injured before quickly realizing that she is behind Kate, that her panic is over what is happening, not because she is hurt. At least not yet.

Pushing his foot down on the accelerator, he thinks, briefly, that maybe he could outrun the other car, but even as the idea pops into his head, Beckett effectively squashes the concept. "You are not going to be able to outrun it."

He hopes she is more focused on the other car as he snaps in reply, "I'm open to suggestions."

She throws a glare in his direction, because apparently she can multitask a little better than he can, before she goes back to scanning the road ahead. He has no way of knowing what she is looking for, would normally take the time to work out what is going on inside that brilliant mind of hers, but as their car is hit again, he is once more forced to focus on keeping their car on the road.

"Drive as fast as you can until you get to that bend." She points to a curve in the road maybe a quarter of a mile ahead of them, and he spots the trees that dot the side of it.

"Umm, Beckett, if I can't take the corner, we're…" He doesn't finish the sentence out of respect for his daughter who is sporadically shrieking questions at them, instead continues to ignore her, as they concentrate on the other car.

"I know, but when I say stop, do it and do it suddenly." Beckett twists in her seat and concentrates on his daughter, yells at her over her cries of distress. "Alexis!"

Kate persists and thankfully, the teenager becomes quiet.

"Your seatbelt is on tight?" He can see Beckett pulling hers in demonstration and he bites back the cautionary, '_be careful of the baby'_ that wants to come out. He can't remember how big a fetus is at this stage, but he is thinking pretty damn tiny.

"Bring your legs up and wrap your arms around them. Head down and brace yourself. Don't change positions until one of us tells you, okay?" Thankfully Kate has dealt with enough teenagers through her job to make it sound like a question, but she is already turning away to shift in her seat, moves so that she can follow her own instructions.

"Ready, Castle?"

He can see the other car speeding up next to him again, and he forces the accelerator toward the floor once more; he gets where Kate is going with this, he just has to hope they all survive such a risky course of action.

The car follows his lead, speeds up to overtake them again, and Rick holds his breath as Kate counts down softly beside him. They are either going to live through this, or die spectacularly, and Castle again curses the fact that his curiosity had gotten the better of him, all those years ago.

* * *

_._

_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews! Mayor hugs for getting past 100! _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Nic; you make my words so much more than they are and encourage me to be a better writer xoxo_

_._

_I would love to hear your thoughts!_


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter seven

.

Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_Where there is desire, There is gonna be a flame_

_Where there is a flame, Someone's bound to get burned_

_But just because it burns, Doesn't mean you're gonna die_

_._

* * *

If someone were to ask her how it all went down, Kate would have shaken her head in bewilderment. She knew that as the car chased them, drew alongside for another try at ramming them, it was going to all come down to luck. Her breath had come in short puffs due to the risk and apprehension of the situation. Sweat beaded on her skin even in the winter air.

The pressure of her idea, combined with her concern over Castle's driving skill meant she had to fight to keep a panic attack at bay. The move he needed to pull off had to be executed perfectly to take them out of harm's way; for them to remain alive. The point, after all, was to remain alive.

Castle had planted his foot harder to the floor, causing the trees out the window to fly past in a blur, the different shades of greens becoming one. Yet through the ordeal she forced her voice to remain composed. Her quiet, soothing tone, as she counted down to one, was everything the situation wasn't. Tranquil, light, infused with a sense of calm that she didn't feel, while she gripped the seatbelt harder.

If the anxiety that sped through her body was any indication of what Castle might be experiencing, Kate knew that she needed to instill in him the belief that everything was okay, that everything was going to be okay, even if she didn't believe it herself.

Time appeared to be stretching, the deadly anticipation leaving her close to breaking point, but finally those in pursuit veered in the direction of the Mercedes. The gap, barely a yard wide, narrowed, and while there was only the smallest movement toward them, it was the moment that Kate had been anticipating.

She had yelled _stop_; had pushed her head between her knees, and mimicked the position she'd instructed Alexis to make. She hoped that it would reduce the impact to their bodies when… _if _her plan failed. If Castle couldn't bring the car to a stop quick enough. If the assailants succeeded in hitting; metal against metal.

Suddenly the band holding her fixed to the seat contracted against her body, wrenching tight, her slender frame contained in spite the pull forward. The car screeched to a halt, and she realized that there was no impact. Her seat belt had reacted to the abrupt stop– not to a crash. And then the explosion occurred.

The sound had her head jerking up, had her scanning the interior of their car in a bizarre moment of stupidity, as if somehow the noise had come from inside, but as Alexis met her wide eyed stare with the same petrified look, her frantic search shifted to Castle.

His hands were clenched around the band of the steering wheel; a perfect ten and two that would have had any instructor applauding; yet each finger had been blanched white under the strain, and even through the material of his coat, Kate could see the muscles of his arms straining under the pressure.

Persisting with her check, wanting to ensure that he was okay, her eyes travelled higher. She caught sight of the veins protruding at the base of his neck, the way his jaw held itself ridged, a hard line sculpted from rock, yet it was his normally bright blue eyes that caused a hitch in her breathing. Looking out of his side window, ignoring his passengers, Castle was riveted to the horizon, and she followed his gaze, understanding the reason why horror had infiltrated his expression when she saw flames, intense against a backdrop of greenery.

The car that had been ambushing them was now nothing more than a fireball, flames licking every inch of its sleek lines, steel twisting under the heat. And the people inside- trapped.

Their plan had worked, and while Castle had come to a stop, the other car had continued its trajectory sideways. With nothing to collide into, it had spun out of control and into the trees that lined the country road. Unfortunately, having an idea of what could happen and seeing the results in devastating 3D were two very different things. No matter what their intentions had been- good or bad- no one deserved to die, and no one deserved that death. The crash adds more notches to the tally inside Kate's mind. A tally that is rapidly increasing as each hour passes; another burden to bear.

Starting the car, Castle begins crawling forward, his hands visibly shaking. They need to put some distance between themselves and the crash, and eventually they start moving faster.

Slowly Castle's confidence appears to grow, and with it so do the miles.

Half an hour passes as he drives; not enough time for Kate, though she doesn't know how much can ever be enough. As the three of them continue to sit in stunned silence, Castle apparently has other ideas. Suddenly, he pulls the car into a small bushy grove, and they come to a stand still.

Stopping the vehicle does nothing to alter the quiet inside; the air is heavy with all of the words that aren't being said, and Kate knows she's going to have to shake the numbness which is freezing her thoughts and terrorizing her body.

Opening the passenger door, she takes the first step needed, pushes herself out of the car, yet the movement is too much. A sensation of dread bursts up the lining of her esophagus, and she struggles to manage half a dozen more steps away from the car before she has no choice, has to bend, the meager contents of her stomach rising like the tide, spilling forth.

While a queasy feeling had been skirting the edges of her consciousness for several weeks now, this is her first experience of what is no doubt going to be a daily occurrence. Because as much as she wants to blame the nightmare they just fled, she has spent too many years dodging bullets, eying the scum of the earth, to be able to successfully place the blame on that.

Welcome to pregnancy.

* * *

Approaching Beckett hesitantly, Castle eventually finds himself standing by her side, one hand raised, wanting to offer support, to rub the small area between her shoulder blades the way he had done whenever Alexis had gotten ill. It always calmed his daughter; knowing that he was sympathetic to what ailed her, and he wishes he could instill the same trust into Kate, so she understands that he is here, that he feels her pain as much as he can. Yet, the line in the sand that she unwittingly drew on their first night is flush with the toes of his shoes, and one step over may be the one step that has her drawing a new line.

Hearing the car door shut behind him, he senses rather than sees his daughter exit the half-destroyed vehicle; knows that she won't come any closer while Kate is suffering, and she remains hovering awkwardly behind him.

"I'm fine."

Kate's words are said with determination, a steel wall that offers no way for him to enter, but underneath he hears the hitch, just a small crack within her armor; the stress of the past few days is causing her to yield and the ductile fracture may as well be real. He has seen what happens to even the strongest of metals when overworked; fatigue leads to fissures and while she has been putting on a front of tensile strength, it is this supposed peak that hides the small crevices that are developing, which leads to complete failure. He can't let her fail at this.

This thought has him shifting forward, closing the gap, fingers sliding along her collar until he can gently cradle the back of her neck, his hand _hopefully_ imparting all of his love, and he stands tall beside her; if she needs to bend, he will be there to prop her up.

It doesn't take long for the dry heaves to taper off and he feels her straightening; breathing deeply through her nose, and he wishes he had enough foresight to throw some drinks into the car alongside his luggage. Dirt puffs underfoot as Alexis takes the steps necessary to reach him, her arm extended as she offers him a stick of gum, and he couldn't be more proud of her than in this moment. That she's helping Beckett, putting his partner ahead of her own desire to hide out in the car; she must be suffering through her own worried and anguished hell, and yet here she is, still thinking of others.

Taking it from her with his free hand, he places it in Kate's line of sight, and she lets out a grateful hum, quickly unwrapping the stick from its paper, before shoving it into her mouth. Her frantic chewing is the only sound for a moment as she attempts to rid herself of the foul aftertaste.

Standing there on the side of the road feels too surreal, odd and eerie; the leaves in the nearby trees rustling loudly, the wind beginning to pick up, and a chill descends; they need a course of action, they need–

"We need a plan."

Beckett's voice cuts across his thought, so often on the same brain wave, and he nods in agreement. But as his daughter steps closer, reminds him that it's not just him and Kate, that Alexis is here and she has no idea why they have found themselves on the side of a country road, having survived a potential hit and run. He has forgotten that she actually has no idea why they are on this escapade to begin with.

* * *

"I don't understand what's happening here, Dad. You owe me an explanation, the truth, because this isn't some surprise trip away." Her eyes dart to Beckett for a split second before shifting to focus on the landscape over his shoulder, a sure tell that she is wanting to hide from what she is about to say next. It's always been her little quirk; even as a child she would refuse to make eye contact when she was about to deliver an unwelcome truth.

"I didn't say anything about… whatever is now going on." Her hand waves vaguely in the direction of the adults. "And I didn't say anything when we bypassed Beckett's, or what she said on the phone to Detective Esposito. And I'm trying here, Dad, I am. But we were nearly run off the road, and I'm the only one here that seems surprised by anything that's happened today."

Taking the long stride needed, Rick approaches, arms wide, embracing her completely, squeezing reassurance into her petite frame. The guilt shatters his soul, little fragments scattering in the increasing winds; she should never have had to go through this. Should never have had to suffer through the unknown while he made decisions for the both of them. Decisions that are affecting her life in the worst possible way. She could have been killed if their gamble in the car hadn't paid off, and his arms tighten again.

"Dad, too much," she speaks into his shirt, muffled, and he forces himself to loosen the embrace.

Twisting his head, he gazes in Beckett's direction; her awkward stance, her arms folded around her stomach as if, while he hugs his child, she is attempting to do the same, and the sight splinters him all over again. He just wants to encircle them all, gather up the separate parts of his soon to be expanding family, hold them as one, but first he needs to explain to his firstborn what has happened so they can begin working on their next step forward.

* * *

The phone rings continuously against his ear, the two beat noise on repeat, and he resists the urge to throw the damn thing against the nearest wall as he waits impatiently for someone to pick up. The day is becoming an avalanche of disasters, and the cold tendrils of frostbite are threatening his iron like grip on what should be a tightly controlled situation.

He knew in that second, knew as soon as he heard the news of Detective Beckett's pregnancy that he was going to be left holding a hand grenade without a pin. The Beckett family has caused him nothing but stress and ulcers as they went about, continue to go about, detonating his carefully laid plans, rupturing his peace of mind, his political ambitions. And for what?!

Now that there is another generation on its way, someone else to lay his plans to waste, he feels more than justified in ending the deal that had been in play. Except now he apparently has a dead minion who not only failed in his attempt to discreetly shoot the detective in a robbery gone wrong, but there's a foot cop also lying dead in the morgue. Not that that weighs on his mind; he's just a simple man that appreciates tidiness and today a wrecking ball has crashed through his order.

The fire at her apartment thankfully went according to plan, destroyed any evidence she may have had, although in light of the recent catastrophe, he'd like nothing more than the opportunity to turn back the hands of time; would have gone about things differently in hindsight. Death by fire would not have been as poetic as having her slain in an alleyway, but the end result would have been worth it, easing some of the resentment she has caused him.

His hand contracts around the cell once more; the team that had been tracking her exodus from the city was expected to complete their task and report to him by now. Should be regaling him with their success, but the ominous manner in which the phone continues to ring out, triggers a fury that coils around his chest. A thick ribbon of hate tightens as it cloaks him in rage. There will be no place in heaven or hell for her to run to, especially if he is forced to send another team after her today.

* * *

_._

_Thank you for all the amazing love that filled my inbox, I truly appreciate all your reviews! The response continues to pull at my heart strings xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo who puts up with far too much xoxo_

_._

_I would love to hear your thoughts!_

_._


	8. Chapter 8

.

Chapter eight

.

Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

.

_It's like you're always stuck in second gear, Well, it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year._

_But, I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour. I'll be there for you, like I've been there before._

_._

* * *

Alexis is raging in her own self-contained way. Standing on the side of the road was never going to be a good place for her to find out the truth, and even from inside the car, where Kate has fled to give them the illusion of privacy, she can still hear every hurtful remark directed at her.

She keeps trying to tell herself that everything with Alexis will be okay. She has been holding on to the hope that because once, long ago, there had been a tentative friendship developing between the two of them, that the strain that has existed for the last couple of months, won't last forever.

That had been her hope, but now she doesn't know anymore. She'd never suspected there was this much animosity toward her. She's been on the receiving end of Alexis' cold shoulder, but never her malicious words.

Kate is starting to realize, sitting awkwardly in the front seat, teeth dragging painfully across the skin of her thumb, that her departure over the summer has had a much wider affect than she suspected. The ripples of her retreat were of course going to spread through the water, wash over Castle in the worst possible way; she had spent many an hour staring at the phone, willing herself to call him. She had wished to end the anguish that she knew her absence would be causing him, but she is stupidly surprised that the waves continued, crashing over Alexis as their tortuous momentum went on.

To hear the pain he had suffered through, knowing that her leaving in those circumstances had left him 'desolate', 'heartbroken' and 'unwilling to enjoy life' rips through her; another bullet entering, skin sizzling under the heat, muscle shredding, her heart bleeding.

Kate knew her actions would have consequences- she's not stupid- it's just she didn't think it would be this hard to hear, and the damaging part is, she still hasn't told him her secret; that she heard him. His pleas for her to stay with him, his declaration that he loved her; it had been her lifeline. It still is.

It's the memory she treasures, especially on her bad days, when moving forward feels too overwhelming.

She really needs to tell him. She should have done it before announcing her pregnancy, because now a baby is holding them together and she may never receive a truthful reaction to her deceit. He has sworn that he will stand by her side, and Castle never breaks a promise, even if this slowly tears them from the inside, festers like all lies do, until it bubbles to the surface, erupting in heated words.

Kate has an unfortunate view at the moment; she is seeing what happens when you internalize your feelings. The seventeen year old is definitely dredging up every hurt she perceives has been directed her way, her father's way. Telling Alexis that there has been another attempt on Kate's life due to Johanna's case- Castle glossed smoothly over the incident in the alley- that it appears to have caused someone to set fire to the detective's apartment, which then somehow resulted in the car chase that they just lived through; it's more than a little confronting.

Adding to it the fact that they are now in the middle of nowhere needing to work out their next move before something else goes horribly wrong, and the red head's fury is palpable. _And _the poor girl has yet to hear she is soon to be a big sister.

Selfishly Kate hopes Castle waits for another day to tell her. When Alexis' reaction might not be laced with so much venom; surely sometime in the next nine months the girl will calm down. Maybe?

Kate's thoughts have turned up the dial on her own worry; they are too open here, exposed like sitting ducks waiting for the next attempt on their lives, and she is going to have to go out there and end the one sided hissing contest, sooner rather than later. She doubts Alexis' mood will be improved if they are forced into another life and death struggle before dinner.

Stepping out of the car, Kate drags each foot as she approaches, hears the second that her position is noticed. There's a deadly silence that slices through their conversation, and suddenly the three of them are holding still; statues against the country backdrop, before Alexis storms past, her shoulder thumping into Kate's as she thunders toward the car.

Castle's reprimand falls on deaf ears as the car door squeaks loudly on its hinges; the unfortunate Mercedes has seen better days, and Kate adds it to the long list of things her presence has destroyed.

"Beckett, she doesn't mean it. She's just..." He quietly tapers off, there's nothing that can be said, so he takes a different approach.

Gently Castle forms a bubble that encases them as one; his body floating into hers, arms wrapping delicately around until his fingers can meet at her back, and she is powerless to do anything but melt into his touch.

They may be new to this, but Kate's really not surprised at how much she craves the comfort of his arms. He has been such a solid form beside her for so long, that this new extension on their partnership has come as easily as their banter and ability to form theory. Well not easily; that all took years, but still, it's them, just more.

"We need to get out of here. We've been open and exposed for too long." He says exactly what she was thinking not a minute before, and she nods in agreement.

"If they were following me before-"

"It stands to reason that they have some way of following you now, Beckett."

"It couldn't have been from my apartment-"

"They wouldn't have waited so long to run us off the road-"

"They could have done that move hours ago, Castle-"

"Then how would they have been able to find our location?"

Turning as one, eyes widening in horror, they stare at the car. Alexis is inside, her phone resting between her raised knees as her fingers fly across the buttons, and together they state, "Our phones."

In the rush to get away, from the alleyway, from the city, they never thought about the ability to track them through their phones; even the brief conversation with Esposito hadn't set off any alarm bells.

"We need to ensure they can't track us, Castle. But I really should call the boys first. Tell them what's happened. Then we need to get far away."

He nods in agreement, already moving toward the car, and she grimaces in sympathy. Telling his daughter about what went down was one thing, telling her that she's about to be detached from her phone is going to rain down a new level of hell onto them all.

* * *

Ryan's chair squeaks annoyingly every time he fidgets, and every time he hears the noise, he reminds himself; sit still, look calm. He's not too worried; he and nervousness are old friends. The others joke that he's the link in the chain that's most likely to snap first, but he would like to think that when push comes to shove, he's more than capable of holding his own, can put on a façade that would rival Beckett's and Esposito's. After all, he has a past that proves it.

At the moment though, perched on his seat while discreetly eyeing Gates' office, the anxiety of today might be too much even for him. And he's not the only one. He's begun to see fissures forming in Espo's armor; his partner raged silently at the news that their team members- their family- is apparently falling apart at the seams.

Now Iron Gates is in there interrogating him, and all Ryan can do is watch. He feels entirely useless, yet as his partner's cell phone starts vibrating on top of the desk, dancing as it cries out for attention, he figures something is better than nothing and he grabs the device without checking the screen.

"This is Ryan, on Esposito's phone."

"_Ryan_? What are you doing answering Espo's phone? Is he all right?"

Relief floods through him, a tidal wave that leaves him breathless and slumped in his chair. He had no idea how much he has been worried about Beckett and Castle, until he heard her on the other end of the phone, healthy enough to be yelling at him.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine. In a meeting with Gates. Over you."

"Shit."

He doesn't hear her swear that often, and he has the bizarre thought that he should cover his ears at such an expulsion. Then he remembers he is a grown man, for Pete's sake!

"I have to be quick, Ryan, but what's the damage on your end?"

Kevin's face contorts at her question, almost wishing that he could trade places with his partner, but then Gates' raised voice can be heard through the windows of her office, and he shakes his head to clear it of such blasphemy. At least dealing with Beckett is through the phone rather than in person.

"Well, we aren't allowed anywhere near your case, have been reminded that we are homicide not arson, and unless we want to find ourselves in traffic, we will obey Her Iron-ness. So LT has been discreetly going downstairs to find out what he can, and the poor guy is running out of excuses to-"

"Ryan!"

The detective extends his arm away from his head for a second, creates some distance between his ear and the cell as her voice shrieks through.

"What, Beckett?"

"I need point form. Feel free to type up your chapter, and give it to Castle for his next book. But I need fast."

Oh right, he had forgotten that she had to be quick.

"Ok, no new leads, sorry. Gates wants to know why you put in for personal time the other day. And now that your three days are up, she's expecting you back at work tomorrow, and she wants to know why you haven't been seen here, since your apartment was torched and she expected you to be-"

"Ryan!" He pushes his mouth shut, had neglected the bullet points he was supposed to be making.

"What have you told her so far?"

He shrugs at the story he'd been bouncing around with Javi before he had gone in, despite the fact that Beckett can't see him, and he continues, "Espo is in there now. I think he's going with a medical setback after your-" The word shooting hangs like a banner and he waits in silence for her next move. Knows Beckett well enough to sense her forming a plan, even over the phone.

"Okay. I'm not going to be back in tomorrow, so I need you to go put on the charm and get me a week of medical leave. Do whatever it takes to get me those days."

He nods, the girls in charge of all that downstairs aren't immune to his baby blues and Irish burr, he can do that for his family.

"We were followed- and are probably being tracked as we speak, so we're ditching the phones. Ryan, this mess… it's connected to my mom's case… to the Dragon. "

Ryan sits up straight as she informs him of that fact, each vertebrae contracting with her news, his and Esposito's suspicion brought to life with her words, and this only complicates matters. Being followed isn't good, being tracked through technology is even worse, but if they ditch their phones, they have no way to communicate and that's disastrous.

"Beckett, if we can't call you, or even let you know to call us, this could go south at lightning speed! It's already heading that way!"

"I know. But with everything that's going down it's…" She doesn't complete the sentence, doesn't need to, but there's a note in her voice that is concealing something, and he wonders if it has to do with her suddenly taking leave; she never takes time off, yet he is at a loss as to what he should do next.

"I am open to ideas here, Ryan?"

_Damn _things must be worse than she is letting on if Kate Beckett is openly asking for ideas, and he's curious as to where her partner is in all of this.

"You're still with Castle? Espo said that he was joining you on your… journey."

"Yes. He's currently informing Alexis that she has to turn off twitter and throw her phone into the trees."

Alexis is with them. Ouch!

"You took Alexis with you? Really?" He had high hopes that the two of them forced together on the road would shake loose some of that tension that's been between them of late. Not that the tension is new, it's just it seems to have been turned up a notch recently.

"Yes. Castle was worried. Wanted his family under one roof."

He doesn't know if there was supposed to be more to that sentence, or if she heard her own explanation and the implication behind it has left her stunned. Either way he is not stupid or game enough to bring it up.

"Can you get your hands on a disposable?" Changing the topic seems to be a good way to go.

"Yeah, but if they are looking at your records they're going to notice a call to a burner."

Right. They really are worried about being found, especially if they're banning the teenager from social media, and the bulb above his head may as well be real as he stands in excitement, the light shining bright with his brilliance.

"Get a phone, create a twitter account. Use an Irish sounding name, follow a bunch of my relatives, and include me. It will appear, if anyone is looking that hard, like you are a Ryan new to the site."

The thrill of coming up with a solution rolls off him in waves, proud that he is finally able to help them.

"I will update, obnoxiously, about cases, life; I'll take photos. When you see one with a phone booth in the background, it means you have to call. All you have to do is make sure you have a new burner and a plan to get some distance behind you as soon as you hang up. Just in case they do track your location. If you're fine then you need to favorite an update, once a day. If you are in trouble, comment with your location and we'll come running."

It's simple but it's brilliant.

"You are a genius, Kevin."

His smile spreads, he doesn't hear it often, they never need to pat each other on the back, but it's nice to feel the love.

"And, look after each other, okay, Lanie too. Check in with our parents; let them know if you can what's happening, we haven't had the chance… just… stay safe okay."

The line goes dead and his heart clenches. Why did that sound like a good-bye, rather than good luck?

* * *

_._

_Thank you to those that take the time to review, it's much appreciated xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their time xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter nine

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_But it was not your fault but mine, __And it was your heart on the line_

_I really f..ked it up this time, Didn't I, my dear?_

_._

* * *

Alexis runs a hand across the floral bedspread, fingers trailing up and down the lines of the outdated pink and blue fabric. Everything about the room screams _horror __movie_; the way the twin beds take up most of the room, the slightly crooked front door that opens until it bumps into the mattress of one of them. The pea green headboard which has stains and scratch marks scarring it at random. She tries not to speculate on their cause as she leans forward into the narrow gap that separates the two beds, opens the white dresser to find a lonesome tattered bible.

Any minute now, Norman Bates is going to burst through the window and slaughter her where she sits, and a chuckle escapes; it's low and dull without any joy. Her bubble of humor pops when she realizes that given the day she's having, it's probably not that funny.

Listening to her father on the side of the road had left her in a state of shock, but it didn't take long for the numbness to abate, her sense of injustice rising every time her eyes had found their way to Beckett.

She could be at home right now, could be anywhere she wanted to be, but instead she's locked up in a dodgy motel room that reeks of the last guest, fearing for her life; her only company the woman who caused all of this.

She wants to go home, wants her father to come back and whisk her away from the hell that is descending on them. If the evil powers that be want Beckett, then they can deal with her. She and her dad have no reason to be caught in the crossfire, to be caught up in _Beckett's _mess.

"I'm sorry."

Lifting her head, she eyes the detective warily; takes in the way she is peering out the window. There's a sliver of light filtering in from the lamps that dot the motel's parking lot; they illuminate Kate's features for a moment. The older woman angles her head a fraction, just enough to split her stare between outside and the twin beds.

She doesn't want to hear how sorry Beckett is. What she wants is this whole mess to be cleaned up. She wants their lives to go back to normal, and in a moment of pure spite, she wishes that had dad had never accompanied the detective down to the precinct on that night so long ago.

She wonders what their lives would be like now.

He had been drifting, frustrated enough to kill off Derek, annoyed that his words no longer came easily, no longer came at all, and while those struggles may have disappeared from his life– is the cost worth it? She can't see how Beckett has that much value. Her dad is hardly a picture of joy and happiness.

The sound of metal against metal pierces the room as a key is inserted into the lock and Alexis rushes toward the door. Grabbing the handle she assists in getting it open, barely allows it to close behind her dad before she is propelling herself into his arms.

Burrowing against his shirt, she squeezes tight before her head twists, eyes making contact with Kate's for the smallest of flickers. Alexis makes the message clear to the older woman who stays perched against the windowsill; you're on the outside of this Castle inner circle. Family first.

He returns the hug, encircling her, holding her securely and her eyes close while she breathes in the scent of him, of home. The hour or so he had been gone was too long, and she still can't understand why she couldn't go with him, why she was tasked with the job of getting the room with Beckett.

"I should've gone with you."

He slants his head down, kissing the top of her red hair, and chuckles slightly. He's putting on an air of serenity, an all-is-right with the world persona, regardless of the fact that it's clearly not.

"I was just finding a discreet place to dump the car. And on my walk back, I discovered that there is a Subaru dealer down the road. So I'll head there in the morning. Get us some new wheels."

Despite being the one in his arms, she is not the one he is talking to, and Alexis wriggles free. Standing back, she watches the two partners conversing without a word being said and it unnerves her. They are much closer than he has been letting on.

"Dad?" It gets her desired result and he breaks his gaze with Beckett, focuses on her. "We can go home in the morning, right?"

His lips turn up as he looks down at her, the smile that adorns so many book jackets and she knows before she hears the platitude– it's a lie.

"We discussed this, Alexis. We just need to wait until it all calms down, not long, I promise. Then everything will…"

She waits for him to say _go back to normal_. Even if it isn't the truth, she craves those words, the assurance that when they go home everything will go back to how it has been. She's determined to ignore everything she's witnessed today; the touches between the pair, their hand-holding and hugs.

"Go get into your pajamas, Pumpkin. Try and get some sleep, it's late." He speaks with love, yet she's gently pushed toward her bag by the wall, the message clear. He's not asking, he's telling, and she resists the urge to grumble at being told to go to bed.

Grabbing some of her winter flannels, she heads into the attached bathroom, yet as she looks back, goes to remind him to do the same, she sees something in his face that was never meant for her eyes, and it takes her breath away. Whatever she has missed of late, it's big, and whatever happens tomorrow, it's clear, they will be staying as a group; her desire to leave Beckett far behind them is as likely as pigs flying.

* * *

Rick returns his gaze to Beckett's as he waits for his daughter to gather the items she needs for the night, walks slowly toward the bathroom, and as she enters the small room, he makes his move.

Drifting toward Kate as if pulled by an invisible string, he closes the gap between them; fingers lifting to card through the curls that are tumbling free, shifting his hand until it finds its place at the base of her skull.

She arches the tiniest fraction back, but he feels it, the slight pressure in his hand, and an easy smile flashes across his features, eyes widening with joy, knowing he can do this. That the simplest of touch has the great Kate Beckett putty in his hands.

Her sharp finger pokes the soft space below his ribs, and it brings him back down to earth; her eyebrow lifts in admonishment, and she stares down her nose, as if she had read his thoughts. Shrugging one shoulder, he laughs softly under his breath, experiences another sharp jab, yet ignoring her chastising, he slides a thigh between hers and aligns their bodies. They are two pieces of a completed puzzle, and he rests against her, pushing her flush with the wall behind.

He craves her touch on a normal day, but today, after finding out about their baby, and after all that they have gone through in such a short space of time, he yearns for the ability she has to make him forget. Forget everything but what it is to be in her arms.

The bathroom door shuts with a snap, and he pivots, detaches himself as his eyes dart across the room, his daughter apparently not making the exit he thought she had, and he cringes. The explanation that he had given her about their impromptu trip had some glaring omissions. All of them to do with Beckett.

It's selfish, he understands this, gets the idea that there are going to be consequences for keeping secrets. But in his mind, he can rationalize the desire to reveal his relationship with Kate slowly, create more of a positive situation, rather than lump it with explanations about hit men and conspiracies. He wants his daughter to want the expansion of their family, and while he appreciates that she won't be as excited as he is, he at least hopes she will be supportive- when he does eventually tell her.

"I think the cat's out of the bag." Kate whispers the words, he can only guess how thin the walls must be in a place like this, and she's obviously been thinking along the same lines.

"Maybe it's better this way? Rather than an awkward conversation about where I'll be sleeping tonight?" His words are almost a squeak by the time he finishes, voice raised in question and he hopes Beckett will play along with his delusions.

Eyes widening, her head cocked to one side, her expression is clear; he may as well be living in never-going-to-happen land. His daughter, of all people is going to require an explanation, and he understands that he owes her one after dragging her along for this ride, but how does he clarify the situation when he doesn't know himself?

"Next you will be telling me that we should just let her find out on her own about the…" Her words fade as she wildly gestures to stomach, to their child inside, before finishing her scolding. "Or were you just hoping that she thought I had eaten one too many cheeseburgers, until there was something cute to place in her arms?"

His eyes glaze over as he weighs up her reprimand; it's not exactly a bad idea, Alexis has always been a sucker for babies and to place one in her arms while announcing that she has a sibling could definitely win her over.

As Beckett goes for his ear, he guesses that she's more exhausted than he'd thought; he's able to easily dodge the move while promising her. "I will tell her in a day or two. When we get home. Just let us deal with the fallout over this first."

One problem at a time is something he can handle; if they start piling up on him, the sensation of being buried under the avalanche will cloud his thinking, and he needs to be on top of their situation.

Lost in contemplation, he doesn't notice it at first, the way Beckett edges along the wall, creates a foot of space that is hardly necessary; her body contracting, fingers curling to form a fist, the muscles of her jaw clenching as she eyes him suspiciously. It's not until she speaks that he gets his first clue that all hell is about to break lose; a quiet, terrifying abyss that sucks the air out of the room.

"You've said that word before– _deal_– in the alleyway. You asked the gunman, 'what happened to the deal?' I had forgotten. With everything that happened today, I'd forgotten. But you _knew_. You were surprised that there was another hit out on me."

He watches as the color drains from her face, the way she lists on her feet, sways as she begins connecting the dots in her mind.

"_I_ wasn't startled. I've been expecting that attack; every morning I wake up and I wonder, is this it? Is this the day they come back? But you… you thought I was safe. You were shocked. Why? What do you know about this _deal_?"

She spits the last word out and it destroys every part of him. He was going to tell her, he was, he just needed time. Needed the right moment to explain the situation. How broken he had been after her shooting, after she'd fled, abandoning him, how he couldn't comprehend leaving her in the crosshairs.

He just needed to come up with the right words to explain how when he got the phone call he _had_ to take the deal; for _her_.

There was never any choice, she had to stay away from her mother's case to remain alive, and surely her life was worth the cost.

And he was doing his best to work on it discreetly, to solve it for her while she couldn't, to free her from the burden that he had placed upon her when he had opened that file. He desperately wants her to have the life she deserves.

"Castle, what have you done?"

* * *

_._

_Thank you to those that take the time to review. I truly appreciate each one xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Thank you to Sandra for the helping look up motels in Pennsylvania, all the places mentioned are real, and are not mine!_

_And to Crystal for the movie reference _

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their time xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter ten

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_Falling out of love is hard_

_Falling for betrayal is worse_

_Broken trust and broken hearts_

_I know, I know..._

_._

* * *

Beckett stands in front of Castle, her fury increasing with every word he that he utters. They blister her skin, burning as if she has staggered too close to the sun. Each statement combines with the one before it, and it sets her alight.

She wants to run, to put as many miles between her and this derelict motel room as she can. She wants to remove herself from his lies, his deception; from _him_. He is breaking her apart, and she is regretting her promise now.

He had whispered frantically; pleading that he would explain everything if she would just listen, hear him out before she said what she needed to say, but as her nails penetrate the padded area of her palms, she wants him to stop, to be silent; she wants her turn to rage.

There's an urgency to his tone, his explanation tripping over itself.

Evidently he thought he had lost her, the anguish he went through, how he would do anything to keep her alive. That all he wanted to do was keep her safe. That he'd hoped by making the deal to remove her from her mother's case there would be no more threats to her life. He justifies it as a trade he could achieve, that he could live with, that he could work on it by himself– for her.

And then _finally _he goes quiet.

She doesn't know where to start, how to respond. Her gaze is fixed on her shoes; she refuses to look him in the eyes. She can't handle the way they are glistening with tears, his remorse over having to spill his secrets, over the white lies she's assuming he's been uttering since her return to the twelfth, the way he's affected by what he's done.

As far as she's concerned, his despair is nothing compared to the way her heart lies broken on the floor between them.

She thought he was her partner, that he was standing by her side as they faced the demons of her past. Yet apparently while he'd been standing by her side he had been lying to her as much as everyone else in her life has done.

Is there no one who can be honest with her?

She finally knows what to say, where to start; however, she's taken aback at the way her words barely clear her throat, the rasp that coats each one.

"You had no right, Castle. To treat me like a child. To hide this from me."

A single tear gathers in her lashes; a perfect sphere of pain that fractures as it falls to her cheek below, descending slowly, and she swipes the back of her hand across her face vehemently.

She will not cry in front of him, and she pushes down the need to weep.

Startling them both, the door of the bathroom creaks open, pausing for a moment before widening; Alexis moves into the room hesitantly, and Kate sucks in her breath. She'd been so focused on Castle and the deal, she has forgotten about the teenage girl in the bathroom, who was no doubt listening to everything unraveling.

Kate's eyes slam shut at the knowledge that Alexis probably heard every word of confession from Castle's lips, details of their life that she shouldn't have heard, and if there was any part of her that was still whole, that concept would have splintered her entirely.

Alexis is innocent in this, she should never have been involved in their mess, and Kate stumbles toward the front door.

"I'll take first watch."

She knows she's avoiding him, but right now she doesn't care, and as her exhausted body collapses into the white plastic chair positioned next to the crooked door, she mentally shoves it all into a box– attempts to ignore it.

Pulling her legs up, she fits them inside the large sweatshirt she had retrieved from Castle's suitcase, and tucking her knees firmly against her chest, she breathes in the smell of him. Even out here in the freezing conditions she can't escape him, or anything that has happened.

The very reason why she doesn't have her own clothes, the reason why she is forced to cloak herself in the scent of him, is because she has nothing left. Nowhere to run to, even if she could. And she desperately wants to run.

She eyes the parking lot; tries to focus on her job as sentry. When she had requested the room- Alexis by her side- they'd had no choice but to use Martha's credit card as ID. Kate had been thankful that along with the money Castle had packed in one of the suitcases, he'd also grabbed the spare cards that had been lying with them. Luckily, the manager hadn't looked twice, and while they paid in cash, the small link back to them is tangible enough that it has her on edge– something else to worry about.

And her tears surge. Today's overwhelming emotions creep up on her and it all breaks free, cascading down her cheeks. She wants to go home, wants to crawl into her nice warm bed, pull the covers up high, and forget everything. She mourns for what has been lost, weeps for the destruction that's besieged her. Recoils over all that has been taken from her.

There is no home to go back to, no bed to hide away in. She can't run; they don't even have a car at the moment, and the air is knocked clear from her lungs. Worst of all, the one person she would turn to, the one person that has been inching his way past all of her walls, the one person she wants to lose herself in, is on the other side of the door, unreachable.

He is now a part of this– the lies. How could he lie to her?

Ice water rushes through her veins, chills her to the core and she realizes that she is not completely innocent either.

Hasn't she been doing the same? Pretending that she hadn't heard his cry of confession? Heard his, 'I love you'? Hasn't she been avoiding his gaze and lying to him?

She drops forward onto her knees, cradles her head heavily in the v of her legs. It hurts too much to think. Everything hurts too much at the moment.

* * *

He sits on the edge of the bed, the darkness in the room interspersed with shadows that are created from the light in the parking lot outside. The heater is humming loudly, attempting and failing to heat up the stale air in the room, and he worries for Beckett outside in the cold.

He knows that she wants space, needs to be as far away from him as she can, but it's not just her now. She's still so thin, has yet to put on the weight that she'd lost over the summer.

Everything about the situation troubles him.

Looking in the direction of the other bed, he can see his daughter curled under the comforter, her red hair managing to shine brightly even in the dim glow, her body shifting in deep sleep. She hadn't said a word after Beckett had walked out the door, had placed a hesitant kiss against his cheek before sliding into the bed furthest from the door, and he is thankful that despite the turmoil of the day, she is sleeping peacefully.

Inhaling painfully he stands, shuffles toward the door, regrets what he is about to do, even before it is done, but it's been nearly an hour, and it's late, and he's selfish. He wants Kate tucked in his arms, wants to forget that most of today happened, craves the progress that they had been making of late. He craves her.

Opening the door, he shivers as the cold airs slices across his skin, and watching how she's huddled in the tiniest of balls on top of the rickety looking plastic chair, he closes the door quietly behind him. He doesn't want to wake his daughter if things become heated again. Chuckling at the thought, although it's hardly funny, he notes that nothing could get heated in this weather, and he takes a step toward Kate.

"Come inside. I'll keep my distance. Keep watch through the window if you're really worried. But please… come inside."

His plea falls on deaf ears as she remains, head caught between her knees, arms wrapped securely around her raised legs, her face obscured, and he moves to position himself before her. He squats so that they're at the same height, and he wills her to look at him.

"I'm sorry. I am. For not telling you, but…" He couldn't take the risk that she would run headfirst into the Dragon's crosshairs. If this is the price he pays for keeping her alive, then it's the burden he will bear.

"I know you are hurt and angry, but Kate, it's freezing out here, and it can't be good for you or the baby."

It's his last word that gets her attention, her head lifting to look at him, and his heart ruptures. Her eyes are shadowed with red, the moisture from her tears remains, clinging to the contours of her face, the pain that he has caused lingers on her features, and he rasps his apology once more.

"Oh, Kate. I'm sorry."

There is scarcely a shake of her head, her apparent refusal of his apology lodges itself deep inside, splintering his soul, but as she speaks, he comprehends that it was directed at herself.

"I lied. I've lied to you, too." Her confession leaves him rocking back on his heels, shock washing over him; he suspects he knows where this is going.

"I remember… in the-"

His head whips vigorously from side to side, his internal appeal that she doesn't say the rest, doesn't finish that sentence. He knows what she's referring to.

"Why?" His question escapes, more breath than voice, and he waits.

"Why did you, Castle?" The pause is minuscule but he hears the intention in what she's saying, that as per normal, they are both screwing things up royally, _together_, but she continues, and he listens, he has to give her that. He appreciates how grateful he was when she remained quiet through his explanation.

"I was broken, and as much as it saved me, it was too much. More than I could handle. Still is." Her shoulders shrug as she searches for more words, and he wonders whether she even knows the reasons for her hidden truth.

"When I came back, I thought I could work on being better first. Heal the wounds both inside and out, but then when you were in the bank…"

He had nearly died, and she saw the other side, lived through what he had previously gone through. While her confession at the time never involved those three important words, taking his hand that night and leading him into his bedroom was her own declaration.

He may be about the words, but she has always chosen the actions.

Breathing deeply, the frozen air stings as it makes its way into his lungs; he can sense what a watershed moment this is.

They are perched delicately above a transition that may divide them completely, and while two wrongs don't make a right, he won't allow this to be the end of their story. Not when they are balanced so carefully, are nearly ready to be so much more, when they have a baby on the way.

He can't run from this, from her, from them, and he edges closer, wiggles his arms in between the narrow space surrounding her on the chair, until he has a solid grip.

Ignoring the way she stiffens, he uses his brute force; picking her up, supporting her in his arms as he lifts. Standing with difficulty, he eyes the flimsy chair, doubting that it will withstand both their weights.

Spinning he fumbles toward the stoop. Sitting down, he hisses as the cold from the icy cement penetrates his sweats and chills his rear. He only needs a second, will drag them both inside in a moment, but first he needs to hold her, reassure her that they will muddle their way through this. That they will survive this latest hurdle. That they will be okay.

* * *

**The next chapter will be out on the 30th as I wrote a Christmas Eve interlude (fits between chapters one and two) and it will be posted separately on Monday xoxo**

** (and I have the winter fication chapters to post in between as well ;)**

_._

_Thank you to those that take the time to review. Each one brings about a smile xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo (especially for answering the never ending amount of questions) and Jamie for their time xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter eleven

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night. I threw my phone across the room at you._

_I was expecting some dramatic turn-away, but you stayed.._

_._

_You took the time to memorize me: my fears, my hopes, and dreams._

* * *

_._

_A reminder in case you missed it there was a Christmas Eve interlude for this story - Come over - _

_Hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for all the support xoxo_

_._

* * *

Kate eyes the new car wearily as it pulls into the parking spot before her. Castle's job this morning was to walk down the road to the Subaru dealership and discreetly purchase a cheap one. Apparently, this is it.

Shaking her head, she bites the reprimand that wants to escape; she should have known that he would take issue with the request; the word _discreet_ is not exactly one he uses often. The Forester, while it appears to be an older model- _thankfully_- it's definitely a newer one than she'd hoped and its bright cherry red colour is hardly going to blend into the environment.

She holds onto the scolding. They've been walking a very fine line since last night when all their lies had been exposed, and after tentatively sharing a bed, this morning has been _polite_ and _courteous_ but not _them_. Not their usual banter and she doesn't know how to get them back on track.

The band of anger still coils its way around her heart when she thinks of what he's been hiding from her, and she imagines that he is probably feeling the same way when he looks at her.

But the stalemate is taking a back seat to the more pressing matter at hand. She's currently standing in her clothes from yesterday, and in spite of the shower this morning, she feels dirty. She desperately needs to buy something new to wear.

Walking the steps required, she opens the car door and sits in the passenger seat in silence. Bringing her knees up, she finds herself curling into a ball like she had done yesterday, ignoring the other two as they load the car with their belongings.

Her stomach is rolling dangerously and she's hungry. She had pushed yesterday's dinner around her plate when they'd taken a short break from driving yet as she thinks of food, her throat contracts painfully, letting her know that ingesting anything at the moment is not going to be a good thing.

At this rate, Castle will have no choice but to tell Alexis their news, sooner rather than later; her morning sickness is going to give them away. She doubts she can blame stress for being ill, given the life she leads, and a stomach bug sounds rather feeble as an excuse.

"There are shops, maybe half a mile back. I thought we could stock up on supplies, just in case…" He doesn't need to finish the sentence, she's well aware of the circumstances that they have found themselves in.

Looking up, she shoots him a glare before indicating toward his daughter in the back. They really don't need to bring everything up again in front of Alexis. Kate is still appreciating the quiet truce.

"I just meant you have no clothes, Beckett. Well, you have clothes, you're wearing clothes, but you'll need to buy some more."

Her hand waves between them, implies that he should stop talking and get a move on, and she is grateful to hear the car start as her head flops down to bump lightly into her knees. Between the lack of sleep, her headache from over thinking, and her upset stomach, she already wants this day to end, and closing her eyes tightly, she wills it all to go away.

There is nothing but silence from the three of them, the sound of the motor filling the awkward space, and it stays like that as Castle drives along until the car comes to a permanent stop. Hauling her head up, she reluctantly sees that they have swapped one dingy parking lot for another, but at least their outing gives her the chance for some distance.

"We should split up, it'll be quicker. We need to get out of here." Kate doesn't mention that she wants some space from him, focuses instead on the fact that she has the need to get out of here before they are tracked once more.

It's probably taking paranoia a step too far, but she feels open and exposed here, especially considering how long they have been in the one place. The trail they had created by staying the night, by ditching the old car and buying a new one, and now with this shopping expedition; it's all too… unsafe.

"Do you really think that's wise?" His voice is cautious, she can hear that he's trying to maintain the balance, trying to find some solid ground as the land underfoot shifts with recent events, but what she needs is some time alone.

"It'll be fine. Thirty minutes and we'll meet back here. Take Alexis and try to find somewhere that has disposable cells. We need to check in with the boys today."

He should know better than to argue with her detective tone. He's witnessed Espo and Ryan scurry off to do her bidding when she plays that card, and he nods in agreement.

The discussion is over.

* * *

He wanders the aisle of the bookstore struggling to look like he is merely another tourist as his eyes dart between his watch and his daughter. Beckett had said thirty minutes, and if he shows up at the car before then he is going to look like he doesn't trust her, but he can't shake the feeling of dread that had captured his heart as he watched her walk away.

He had stared after her as she'd casually strolled from him, as if she didn't have a worry in the world, but all he could see was the space between them, growing with every step. It was too symbolic, and he hasn't had enough sleep to stop the fabricated illusions that are toying with his mind. He's irrationally afraid that she won't be there when they go back to the car, that she will run once again.

Shaking his head, he dislodges the thought, scrutinizes the book jackets instead, and he realizes that of all the shops to go in while trying to keep a low profile, this one's probably not the best. But after having inconspicuously gotten a burner phone– easily enough when paying with cash– he's now at a loss of what else to buy.

The shopping cart of groceries has already been unloaded into the trunk, stocked with all the non-perishables that he could get his hands on; a quick trip considering his daughter had vetoed half of his choices.

With nothing else to do, they had begun their second walk through the small shopping district and it was then that he had spotted the bookstore. His love for the pages had enticed him, and he'd convinced Alexis to follow him in.

"I'm just going next door," she says out of the blue.

He twists in her direction, goes to argue against her idea.

"I'll be fine, Dad. We only have five minutes left. How about you find a book to calm your nerves."

She turns and walks away before she even finishes her sentence and he ignores the sensation of ice in his veins. Why does everyone need to separate from each other? Isn't it safer to remain together?

Huffing pointlessly at his daughter's departing form, he smiles sweetly at the old lady who edges past him, a concerned look upon her face, and he adds a little wave of his fingers for good measure; he's supposed to be blending into the crowd, not sticking out like a sore thumb.

Glaring at his watch, time not moving any faster, he returns to his perusal. Maybe if he finds a good book for Beckett, she will be in a more forgiving mood, although now that he thinks about it, maybe she's the one that should be buying him a gift of forgiveness.

In the light of day the pain that had been inflicted on him last night has abated somewhat, but not disappeared altogether; it's going to take time for that wound to heal completely.

Despite her explanation over why she'd lied to him in her hospital room, he remains confused. Why had she continued the deception after their partnership had reformed? Why, even after they'd taken that crucial step closer, had she remained mute during the last three months?

He understands that she wasn't ready to hear those three words. Hell, they had hardly been in a good place when he'd said them as he'd cradled her bleeding body. It had been a very real fear that if he didn't say anything she would never know what he felt for her.

But why lie? Why _continue_ lying?

That had sat on _their _swings, swapping lines of subtext and she could have confessed then. Or even the night after his hostage experience. He would have understood.

He can only imagine how much it would have hurt if he had found out some other way, if her words last night had been overheard rather than directed at him, and a light appears before him. A little bulb of clarity.

Regardless of the whys, she _had_ told him, had admitted the truth, and he needs to give her credit for that. He knows how hard it was for him to get his own dishonesty out in the air, and he needs to be thankful that she took the opportunity to do the same.

She could have remained silent, could have let him bear all the blame for the tension that exists between them, but instead she had taken half, and he wishes there was some way to explain what that means to him. As far as he is concerned they will overcome this hurdle.

For all his words, she is a woman of action and he needs a gesture that is less sub and more text. As he once again steps back to let another lady past, his back hits the display behind him.

In what can only be a sign from the universe, one of the books dislodges, falling to his feet, and he bends to pick it up.

He needs to show her that he is beside her; that he can't and won't walk away. He traces his finger over the title of the book in his hands. He has a plan.

* * *

She inspects the brown bag while he fidgets in his seat, his fingers fiddling with the radio's controls, eyes darting back and forth as he discreetly watches her and does his best to keep the car on the road.

Her finger slides slowly under the tape that holds it closed at the top, and ripping the edges, she creates a gap. The package is a dense, rectangular prism, feels like a book by the way it bends slightly in her hands, and moving so she can begin tearing the paper away, she's stopped before she can hardly get started.

Castle clears his throat unsubtly, a loud choking noise that gets her attention, and narrowing her eyes, she glares at him pointedly.

What was the point of buying her something, if he didn't want her to open it.

He's paying attention to the tight bend and she maintains her stare, waits for the car to straighten so that he can turn fleetingly her way. But his eyes glide straight past hers as he nods toward Alexis, who remains blissfully unaware of what's happening up front; as per normal, she is staring out the window, music playing loudly in her ears.

Twisting her body, Kate shields the gift from the back seat, continues opening it, her speculation running rampant as she wonders what on earth he could have bought while on their short shopping trip, especially considering he was with his daughter at the time.

The book falls into her lap with a dull thud, the glossy pages sliding across her sweatshirt and she makes a grab for it, catches the present before it has a chance to fall to the floor, and her heart comes to a grinding halt in her chest.

It's a journal; a pregnancy companion according to the pale purple words that are typed boldly across the cover; apparently it's a beautiful keepsake that will guide her through her pregnancy and the first six weeks of motherhood.

His hand reaches for hers, fingers interweaving, and he squeezes as tears fall onto her cheeks. She can't remember the last time she has cried so much and she curses the man beside her; what he has done to her, the way he pierces her soul with his love. The _way _he loves her.

The way he already loves their child.

* * *

_._

_Thank you to those that take the time to review. It's like Christmas morning all over again xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their time and patience xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter twelve

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_Lately I've found_

_When I start to think aloud_

_There's a longing in the sound_

_There is more I could be._

_._

* * *

There were issues with ff as I posted eleven, so hopefully everyone was able to read it!

* * *

Kate leans her head against the glass of the passenger window, her vision glazed over as tree after tree flickers past, and she wishes it were her turn to drive; at least when she's behind the wheel she has something to concentrate on. Being a passenger requires no focus and her mind wonders dangerously, conjuring up thoughts that are hardly helpful when stuck in a speeding vehicle.

What happens now? What happens tomorrow? How are they going to overcome the past and move forward?

They've been sitting in the car for hours and Kate is beginning to regret coming up with their current plan. It seemed a safe way to try Ryan's idea; to drive in the opposite direction to the motel they'd picked out for tonight, log onto the internet via their phone, putting his twitter breakthrough into practice, before doubling back and heading north again. But now her ass is sore, and the car is stuffy from the heater, and-

"Are you okay?"

Castle's voice gently breaks the silence that is becoming a permanent fixture inside the car. She is too cautious about the eyes and ears in the back seat to have any type of serious conversation, and the feeling of secrecy is not being helped by her desire to flip through the journal he had gotten her.

His peace offering had brought her to tears, has begun to heal the fissures that had slivered through her heart as his secret had come out, and she has spent most of the quiet morning thinking of a way to return the gesture. To show him that she's sorry for her own mistakes, for the lies that had slipped past her lips.

They both need to start walking the path of forgiveness; the alternative is unthinkable.

"Beckett?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just… need to move." She can't remember the last time she had remained stationary for such a long time; it's not like she has an office job that requires sitting in a chair all day.

_Oh, wait_, she actually can remember the last time she'd spent hour after hour with limited mobility, she just doesn't want to.

"I think we're good to stop here, Castle." She tilts her head toward the truck stop in the distance ahead. She takes its apparition as a sign that they should put an end to their aimless driving, not that she believes in that nonsense, of course, and thankfully Castle's head nods in agreement.

It's cold, but she may get away with taking a quick jog through the woods that back onto the establishment. She needs to move, craves the exercise, especially if they have to turn and drive the same distance back before the night is over.

Twisting in her seat, Kate gazes at the young girl behind them; observes her frozen posture, head peering out at the scenery through the window, chin firmly planted in her bent hand. It's exactly the same position that Alexis had when they started on this morning's journey.

"Alexis?" Kate raises her voice, not loud enough to be considered a yell, but definitely higher than normal and the teen eyes her automatically. Considering Alexis' earphones, she assumes the music isn't that loud, and she's grateful that Castle hasn't started any deep and meaningful conversations.

Not that she can blame the poor girl for listening in, if that's what she is doing. Alexis has been thrown into a bad situation, with a person whom she obviously dislikes and distrusts, and she can understand why the younger girl might be sitting in the backseat trying to gather intel. Kate just wishes that they could close the gap that's between them and take this opportunity to build a friendship, especially before the baby makes itself known.

"We're stopping for lunch."

* * *

Alexis tries to be discreet as she watches the two of them arguing about the phone. Apparently, they are trying to conceive a name for Ryan's fake relative so that they can create a profile for twitter and it isn't going well. Beckett does have a point that the 'handle' is supposed to be discreet while linking them to the Ryan family. Her dad, on the other hand is listing traditional Irish names, complete with meaning and region, and if it wasn't so funny to watch she may have stepped in and sided with the detective just to end it.

Not that she is on Beckett's side.

No, it's just in spite of the last year, she had kind of looked up to the older woman; the first two years or so had been vastly different to the non-existent relationship they have now. Except they do have one, _now_; they have spent the last twenty-four hours together in an uncomfortable standoff and she knows that for the most part, that's on her.

Her mind swings violently; she's unable to work out who is responsible for the ill will that has reared its ugly head while on this ride. She feels an odd sense of guilt over her behavior. After all Beckett has been polite and friendly, including her in their conversations, but she just can't get past the fact that they wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for the detective. If they hadn't taken this impromptu road trip she could be home, doing…

Except there is nothing really going on at home either; all her friends are concentrating on school, on their boyfriends, on everything she doesn't have anymore, and in defeat she focuses back on her dad and Beckett. She's here. She doesn't have to like it, but she has to go with it, at the moment.

"Okay, so I am in, all systems go." Castle holds out the phone expectantly, but Kate looks blankly in his direction, shakes her head in refusal.

"I'm not doing it!" She eyes the cell in distaste. "Just do whatever it is that needs to be done. Check his comments or photos, or whatever he is putting up as clues. Then click on something you like so he knows we're reading it."

Alexis nods as Beckett speaks, chuckles lightly as her dad replies. "You favorite, Beckett, not like. And Ryan doesn't comment, he tweets."

Lifting her hand from the table, Beckett's motion halts, her fingers hovering oddly in the air, before she drops it back down, her eyes darting toward Alexis and then back to Castle, as she whispers loudly, explaining her bizarre hand movements.

"Well I'm not a bird, and you should be grateful you're not on the receiving end of me flipping you one. Just stick to the plan. It's a good one."

Alexis has to agree, the plan is a good one. Although the more hours they are on the road, the more she begins to suspect that the plan has a major flaw. After all, if everything is this dangerous, how are they ever going to be able to get home?

Pushing that unwanted thought to the back of her mind, she moves closer to her dad, makes room in the small space around them as Beckett stands; explaining to them that she is going for some fresh air. The glare her dad receives as he goes to object is harsh, but there's a tender edge to it that removes most of the heat, and she is beginning to notice that this is a regular occurrence between the two of them.

There is something _more_ to the way they look at each other now and she replays the way they were by the window last night. There's something there that she wishes she could understand and she resolves to talk with her father. She doesn't like being on the outside, and if she is going to be dragged around the countryside by the two of them, the least they can do is fill her in on some of the details.

A comfortable silence settles over them, her dad muttering incoherently in what she assumes is in regards to Beckett's exit. While sliding his finger smoothly across the phone's screen, he scrolls though Ryan's tweets, and she asks curiously, "Anything of interest?"

Jerking slightly, he turns wide-eyed, almost surprised by her there, before a lazy grin tugs at his lips, his body settling back into the seat. "Jenny this, Jenny that. Normal newlywed stuff. But they did just get a body drop." There's a longing in his tone, the way he looks toward the phone as if he could see the murder scene through the display.

"It's only been a day, Dad. I don't think you can miss solving cases this quickly."

He nods absentmindedly, eyes more focused on the device in his hand then what she is saying. She speculates there is more to his yearning, something else she is missing, because the way he looks at the moment, it's as if he has seen his last case. Deciding that that thought can also go with the other one– in the too hard basket; she contemplates how to bring up his relationship with Beckett? Nice and gently? Or just blurt it out and hope the surprise attack takes him unaware?

"Dad?" Even as she requests his attention, she still internally debating her next move.

"Mmmmm."

"What's going on...? Between you and Beckett?"

There are inches separating them, but she still feels every one of his muscles contract, his fingers becoming white, clenching the phone too tightly.

"What do you mean, Pumpkin?"

Inhaling deeply, she psyches herself up; she wants to know, she deserves to know, she just doesn't know if she is ready to hear what he has to say.

"I'm not stupid. I see the looks between the two of you, the little touches, the hug on the side of the road. The way you held her when you thought I went to get changed." Now that she's replaying her dad's recent behavior through her mind, she comprehends that this may not be something new; the bounce in his step of late, the easiness to his laughter, the happiness in his features. This has been happening for months.

"Are you and Beckett… _together_?

He stares at her then, worry creasing the skin at the corner of his eyes, lips drawn together as he scrutinizes her, the tension between them escalating with each second of silence.

"Would that upset you? If we were?"

Strands of red hair slice against her cheeks as her head shakes in confusion. His reply is all the confirmation she needs, and she wishes she could understand what is going through his lovesick mind; they are talking about the woman who left him, who abandoned him for months, who waltzed her way back into their lives as if nothing happened.

"I don't get it, Dad. What happened? What made you give her another chance?"

Hasn't Beckett been given enough?

Scooting his chair closer, he places the phone on the table, and using both hands to grasp hers, his thumbs slide over her hands in circles. He used to do this when she was a little girl, scared of the world changing outside. She would creep down the stairs to curl in his lap, and he would rub circles across her back, whisper that it was all going to be okay. She wishes that she was still that little girl, that her daddy could take away her fear.

"What's happened between Beckett and I is personal. But you do need to know that we are together, that…"

Her hand is squeezed harder, his eyes closing as he searches for the words to finish that sentence, and she doesn't want to hear it, she can't just yet.

"Does she make you happy, Dad?"

He relaxes unexpectedly, her question freeing something inside of him. There's a heaviness that slides off his shoulders, thumps against the floor as he smiles at her; a genuine beam that encompasses all of his features, and she has her answer even before he speaks.

"I'm happy, Alexis. Regardless of what is going on at the moment, the two of you are here and that's all that I need to be happy."

Yet just as suddenly, his face is closing over, his fingers crushing hers, and the blood pounds loudly in her ears. There is more, something else, she can see it, feel it, and she holds her breath.

"Hey, guys. Ready to go. It's freezing out there." Beckett's voice shatters the moment and whatever he was going to say is put aside as his partner joins them again.

* * *

_._

_Thank you to all that have left a review. I am forever grateful for the support xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

_._

_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their time and patience xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter thirteen

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_It's only half past the point of oblivion_  
_ The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run_  
_ The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames_  
_ Have you ever felt this way?_

* * *

Between one shots, ficathon, and ff issues this was delayed, my apologies

* * *

His fingers slowly trace across the solid edge of her collarbone, side to side along the hard lines and she hums softly. A low noise to let him know she is awake, a bit of encouragement should he need it, not that he ever does.

Lips replace his hand and he aims higher, attaches to her pulse point, nibbles at the delicate skin, and the noise that escapes her this time is one of warning. A low growl that vibrates the length of her throat.

If he leaves a mark on her skin, and the boys at work see, she's going to…

While focused on his mouth, she's missed the way his right hand has traveled south, made its way under the heavy comforter, to find the edge of her shirt. Pushing the material up, he uses the access to her ribs to drift in between each one. The tips of his fingers ghost their way across more skin, and a shiver results, her body shuddering under him. The way his touch is barely there drives her crazy, a fact that he is well aware of by now.

Raising her hips, her legs part to grant him better access, yet the next growl that erupts from her is one of frustration as his hands move up rather than down.

He must think that it's funny. A deep chuckle is released disturbing the strands of hair behind her ear, his breath huffing again as her head angles away, exposing more skin, and his hand rewards her movement, palming her breast. His flat nails scratching along the hidden curve and her body arches, attempts to close the space.

Twisting to face him, her teeth scraping along his jaw, she advises, "Wrong way, Castle."

He does laugh then, pulls his hand away, and as the sound fills the room, she forces her eyes open for the first time that morning.

"I don't think Alexis is going to be in the shower that long, Kate."

His words may have well been a bucket of ice water, the way it freezes her libido, and her hands shove his shoulders back as she sits upright, startled eyes taking in the room. The dingy furnishings that have no doubt been sitting inside the Knight's Inn, barely cleaned for far too many years.

Damn.

She can't believe he got her all hot and bothered before she was even properly awake, knowing that it was all for naught, and she slaps a hand against his shoulder, the movement pushing him onto his back as he grins up at her.

"Castle, what was that about?"

He shrugs a fraction, the grin turning into an irritating leer as his eyes slide up and down her body.

"I just wanted to see if you would let Castle innnnn." He holds the last sound, drawing it out for as long as he can, before his body shakes in silent amusement, and she rolls her eyes.

"Did you purposely pick this Inn so you could say _that_?"

He flashes her a smile, and on any other day, at any other time, it would have left her rushing to wipe it off his face, but even if she squints she can't pretend that they are anywhere but where they are, and his happiness is a welcome distraction.

"I've been working on that line all night. Knights and Castles go hand in hand after all." He adds an elaborate wink just to add to the humor of the situation, and she giggles, lets a matching smile break free.

He digs his elbows into the mattress for leverage, and lifting his upper body so he can capture her lips between his own, he tugs heatedly, before she pushes him back down.

"Your daughter is _not_ finding out about us this way."

It was awkward enough last night, sharing a room with twin beds means that they had all gotten ready for sleep at once, shuffling around each other as they'd taken turns with the one bathroom.

She had continued to catch Alexis watching her yesterday, peeking through her lashes when they'd left the truck stop, traveled north, finally hitting Johnstown for dinner, and as they had checked in as discreetly as possible, the scrutiny had only increased.

Alexis had given up on subtlety as the hours ticked by, and as the younger girl climbed into one of the beds first, an eyebrow raised, a smirk dancing on her lips, her eyes had darted knowingly between the partners and the remaining bed.

Kate doesn't need to be a detective to see that something is up.

"Yeah. She won't find out about us that way… I told her." His words are soft, his forehead corrugating as he looks her way, worry creasing his features.

"And…?" She has no idea if there is more to his sentence. She hates the feeling that comes with not knowing where she stands in the group; she has dramatically become a pseudo-member of this family in the last day. The child growing inside her alludes to the fact that she will be forever tied to the Castles and that thought takes her breath away.

With everything that has happened, that concept, the idea of being linked forever with the man next to her catches her by surprise.

"I haven't told her about the baby yet. Just that we are together, working toward more." His hand makes its way to her chin, cradles the side of her face, and he finishes his thought.

"I want to wait, until we get back home. Work out what we are going to do and then tell her. You have doctors to see and we've got some big decisions to make about the future."

Her eyes flutter closed, while she nods in agreement. He's right, he is, they need to work out things like her work and maternity leave; housing arrangements and how much being together means being _together_, but there is a whisper that she doesn't want to voice.

What if they don't make it home?

* * *

His fingers slide over the smooth surface and he tries to pay attention to what's happening, but he has trouble doing that _and _remembering to breathe. In and out. In and out. Simple really, but it's not helping, and as his hand closes around the hard object, feels its weight; he tries again; in and out.

In and out.

The metal of the office grade stapler digs into his palm, and he reminds himself that picking up the object and hurling it at one of the incompetent idiots before him would be bad for his image. And it will probably not cease the prattling that they insist on wasting his time with.

In and out. Just let the anger ebb away, drift out to sea, and a snort of annoyance escapes. Now his inner voice sounds like his wife's therapist. Control the rage; don't let the rage control you.

"Sir?"

Bracken sits up straighter as his personal assistant pokes her head around the door, knows from her tone of voice that the interruption is for a good reason, and he dismisses the men and women standing inside the room with a flick of his wrist.

He rises to greet the two men who enter as the others leave.

Silence reigns throughout the room as they wait for the door to close; privacy needs to be ensured for the matter at hand, and if he were a praying man, he would be down on bended knee right now.

"Tell me you've located them, and they have been dealt with accordingly?!"

The ex-soldiers stiffen at his question and he gives them credit, they at least resist the urge to turn to each other for solidarity; they remain straight as statues.

"We have tracked down the Mercedes that is registered to Richard Castle, Sir. It was abandoned several hours north of team alpha's crash site, and since then a beta team has been dispatched and they have investigated the area surrounding the vehicle."

A corner of his mouth tugs up; he can almost smell the sweet scent of victory in the air.

"The beta team, using Katherine Beckett's and Richard Castle's identification photos, were able to locate a motel half a mile from Williamsport, Pennsylvania where she stayed the night."

He nods as the information relayed, is satisfied to hear that they are making more ground compared to yesterday's debacle.

"Have they split up then? If she checked in alone?"

The two men shake their head as one, reply in sync, "No, Sir."

Bracken eyes dart between the two of them, impatient to hear the rest of their work, but the silence continues, and damn it he hates working with armed officers.

"Continue…"

"The manager of the… motel reported that Kate Beckett was accompanied by a minor. A red-head that we have established is Alexis Castle, she is the seventeen-"

Waving a hand impatiently, he hurries them along, he knows who Alexis Castle is for pete's sake.

"Upon an examination of the motel's records, it appears that they signed in using a Martha Roger's credit card for identification purposes. Martha Rogers is the mother of-"

This time it's a growl of frustration cutting off the end of the explanation. He knows who the hell she is too!

"So let me get this clear. The two thorns in my fucking side have managed to elude their execution, have managed to flee the city, have managed to escape the alpha team _and _destroy them in the process, and they are doing this with the extended family in tow?"

"Well, Sir. Martha Rodgers is accounted for, is currently residing with a male friend. Jim Beckett, the father of-" This time it's the soldiers companion that clears his throat, and Bracken comes close to applauding; one of them appears to have some common sense.

"He is also going about his normal day, Sir. Although both have been visited by Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan…"

Bracken waits for the unnecessary explanation of who they are, but thankfully it doesn't come. He has done little else in the last twenty-four hours but catch up on all the players in Kate Beckett's life; he needs to ensure that he is one step ahead, needs to ensure that she winds up dead. There was no way he is letting her impending motherhood go to her head, and it had seemed at the time, easier to break the deal that kept her alive, and approach the situation more proactively.

"The visit by the detectives was short and appeared to be a fact finding mission. Besides two phone calls, one before and after the crash, they have had no contact with the fugitives."

"And, Sir. Alexis Castle never showed up for school today and had no reason to miss her Monday classes. Thus, we believe that it is indeed true. She is with them."

This news has him sinking further into the chair as speculation runs rampant. What are they thinking, grabbing the girl and running off?

"Do we know where the three of them are now?"

"No, Sir. What we have discovered is that Richard Castle has purchased a Subaru with cash from a nearby dealer and we are currently running the plates of that vehicle, as well as investigating motels for guests using the names of their associates."

Squeezing his lips together, he nods slightly. It's a good plan, one that should have results by the end of the day if he is lucky. Granted he has always believed in making his own luck.

"And the other situation. How is that coming along?"

"A Hispanic man had been hired to break into the Montgomerys' home to locate and retrieve files, photos, and electronics that might lead to the identity of Mister Smith. He has been disposed of accordingly, and the information he stole is currently being inspected. Results should be ASAP, Sir."

Flipping a hand in dismissal, he watches as they turn together, leave his office in file, and the frustration of the situation swells. He is a good man who has done great things for the people that he serves, and instead of spending his time and energy on doing more good, he has to waste it on snivelling little detectives and their nosey partners.

Palming the heavy metal of the stapler once more, anger crashes over him. If they had just minded their own business, stayed the hell away from this, he wouldn't be standing on the cusp of what is potentially quicksand.

His arm swings back in a move that would have made Cy Young or Nolan Ryan proud, and the device leaves his hand to thud loudly into the panelled wall. Shaking his head at his actions, he realizes, that's going to leave a mark.

* * *

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_Thanks to Sandra for the Inn recommendation and for encouraging me to add an innnnn joke_

_and to those on twitter for the baseball help_

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_Thank you to all that have left a review. I am completely overwhelmed by the love xoxo _

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers xoxo_

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_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their time and for making me smile xoxo_

_._

_Thoughts?_


	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter fourteen

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Cops and Robbers AU (three month time jump after chapter one), and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo.

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_We keep heading in the same direction._  
_ You've become my own reflection._  
_ Is that your soul that you're trying to protect?_  
_ I always hoped that we would intersect, yeah._

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**.**

**FF had issues after I posted thirteen, some have said they didn't get alerts or their reviews didn't appear, so might be worth going back a chapter to see if this applies to you, (it ended with Bracken) because otherwise this might not make sense ;-)**

** Fingers crossed for this one!**

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* * *

"Dude, did you seriously add more of your damn files to my desk?" Esposito twists in his seat to glare at Ryan, and is completely ignored as his partner continues typing away at the computer.

He's had enough.

Picking up a pen, Esposito lobs it in the younger man's direction, smirks when it lightly bounces off Ryan's shoulder, and he braces himself for the retaliation.

"Not cool, Espo." Turning, Kevin looks back with a raised eyebrow; hurt and bewilderment crinkling his normally jovial features, and for a second he feels sorry. "And, yes. This is your punishment, too."

Whatever regret he may or may not be experiencing over his action evaporates as he hears those words, and he picks up another pen.

"Hey, you two. Dispatch has a body drop down an alleyway. Hispanic male, looks execution style, you grabbing it?" Velasquez asks as she walks past, slowing her movements as she rounds their desks, and the partners shake their heads together.

"Gates is on the war path 'cause of Beckett's medical leave. She's making us hand in all our outstanding paperwork. Like punishing us is going to bring her back quicker." Esposito lowers his tone as the Captain peers out of her ivory tower, no doubt using her magical powers to tell that she is being discussed, and damn it, he's missing the members of their team so much he's starting to think like Castle.

"We have another half an hour at least. And that's if someone does his share." Ryan's implication is clear, and Esposito shoots him a dirty look.

He has been pulling his weight. Except when his mind gets stuck worrying over what the hell is going down with Beckett and Castle, and then Lanie called earlier and that was more awkward added onto the situation– God he misses being with her. And okay, so he may not have done that much this morning.

"Well lucky for you. Enjoy!" The other cop strolls away teasingly, and Javi fights the urge to flip her the bird. Iron Gates would certainly have an issue with that.

Turning to stare at the pile that seems to be growing rather than disappearing, Espo narrows his eyes, glaring a little harder. What he needs is an AK-47 and an open plain; that would get rid of this useless waste of his time.

Damn, Gates! And damn Montgomery while he is at it.

He misses his old Cap. The atmosphere, the way the bullpen used to run. And now adding to that the empty desk on the other side of the room, this place is becoming pretty damn pathetic.

"Hey." LT pushes his chair closer to their desks, holding a file up high to cover his face and Javier wonders what else is going to go wrong today. The cop's whisper is frantic and Espo throws a leg behind him, giving Ryan a kick to get his attention.

"What?"

"Shhhh!"

"Hey!" It's LT's voice that wins the battle of one-liners, and the partners discreetly nod that they are listening.

"There's been word from robbery. Montgomery's house was broken into. Shots were fired, Evelyn says she hit someone, but it must have been a flesh wound, 'cause the perp still managed to hightail it out of there."

Shit!

"Everyone's alright?" Esposito attempts to whisper his words back, but the panic is rising.

"Yeah. Evelyn had his old service weapon. But the asswipe still got away with files, computers, and photo albums. As if that family hasn't been through enough. They had to have their memories stolen like that." LT finishes sharing the information and slides back toward the other desk, and Javi throws a look in Gates' direction, ensuring that she's still inside her office.

"This is bad." Ryan states the obvious and Espo resists the urge to throw another dirty look his way. Of course this is bad.

"Have you heard from the two of them today?" He nods slightly in the direction of the empty desk and chair, waits for the answer he already knows. Ryan would have shared the news as soon as he had received it.

"No. Not since yesterday's favorite."

"And we're sure that was them, and not some other relative of yours." Espo's hands clench in frustration; there are so many holes in their plan, and someone is bound to slip on the water that is dripping out of their leaky bucket.

"Yes. It's definitely Castle, I could tell by the name."

"What? He wasn't stupid enough to make it noticeable, was he? I thought Beckett would have seen to that."

"No, Espo. He named himself Riordan Ryan."

Javi shrugs in confusion, besides being a slightly stupid name he can't see how that ensures Beckett and Castle are on the other end of the identity.

"Riordan means Royal poet. In traditional Irish lore, the poet was a highly regarded-"

"Yo, dude, I get it." He doesn't need the novel version of the explanation, it kind of explains itself.

"Yeah, so they were good yesterday, and I keep tweeting today, about being stuck at the desk, about your lack of help. Even this morning, Jenny was so adorable I had-"

Turning his back on his partner, Espo flips open the file on top, as much as he hates the paper pushing, he's now itching to be out in the field. He needs something decent to focus on, needs a good distraction from all the shit that is raining down around them.

"Gentleman."

Gates' voice slices through his thoughts and he pushes down the urge to thump his desk; it doesn't rain, it fucking pours.

"Yes, Sir?" Thankfully Ryan speaks up for the both of them, and Espo turns slowly in his chair defiantly. He's not a dog and he is not barking at her call.

"There's been a murder on the Westside. A man was tortured and killed. The maid discovered the scene when she arrived to work early. Being short staffed, your paperwork is going to have to wait. You're taking point."

* * *

She looks around the motel room once more. Considering they have only been here a night Castle has managed to leave little pieces of himself throughout the room, and as she finds another sock sticking out from under the rickety nightstand, she pushes down the urge to pick it up and throw it at his head.

The fact that he is frantically typing away on his laptop is the only reason she leaves him alone.

Kate has no idea what happened this morning, but after making themselves a quick breakfast with the food supplies they had brought yesterday, he'd begun tapping on the table, a soft rhythm that filled the quiet space between the three of them, and she has to admit that she finds this side of him fascinating.

The tapping had morphed itself into semi coherent mumblings under his breath, talking to himself as he had waited for the bathroom to be free again, but then he had found a piece of paper and scurrying around the room he'd turned up a pen. The empty white space had quickly been filled with words, and his focus had turned inward again as he opened his suitcase to begin repacking for their exit.

Of course, that's when he spotted his laptop.

They had disconnected all their devices from the outside world when they stood on the side of the road two days ago, and Kate shakes her head slightly, taking herself by surprise when she thinks of all that's happened in such short period of time. How far they have come, fugitively and literally.

Now, Castle sits perched, fingers dancing along the keys, a steady pattern of clicks as the words flow easily from him, and she has somehow ended up with the job of retrieving his belongings.

At least Alexis is neat and tidy, after having exited the bathroom– finding them a respectable distance apart in the bed– she had collected the handful of things that needed to go into her case, and had sat down to read on her kindle. It must be a good book as she has yet to move; currently remaining absorbed with the words on her page.

Pushing the sock down on top of his other clothes, she reaches for his pants from yesterday, but the tapping goes silent and she turns to investigate the absence of sound, finds him with eyes closed, head tilted back in contemplation, and she smiles, feels a sense of privilege at being witness to his writing process.

Somehow there is a difference between knowing that your partner writes bestselling stories about you, and actually seeing the process occur.

Whatever he is momentarily stuck on must free itself, his fingers going back to the mesmerizing movements across the letters, and her smile expands.

"Don't we need to get going?" Alexis asks and Kate jumps slightly at the interruption.

Having been caught mooning over him, she ducks her head forward, the slightly damp brown curls from this morning's shower sliding forward, and it gives her somewhere to hid the pink tinge that is spreading across her skin.

Clearing her throat she answers Alexis, "Yeah, but let him finish. I'm done and we still have a little bit of time before check-out."

Fussing over the suitcase, Kate finishes the process, zips it closed, and her eyes drift back in his direction; the tempo from his fingers increases and her eyes widen in anticipation; she wonders what kind of scene is being created, what event has inspired this rush. This morning's caresses, or the action of their close calls?

"Do you like that Dad writes?" Dragging her gaze to Alexis, Kate concentrates on what she is being asked.

"Umm. Yeah. His writing is important." It's an understatement to Kate. Castle's writing is everything. She can't explain what his words have done for her in the past, the hope she had held onto as she had tried to put her life back together all those years ago. Even more recently, they were there for her when she wouldn't allow him to be by her side.

"Because he writes books about you?" Alexis' next question catches her off guard, and it's not helped by the way the younger girl stares at her, as if trying to find some hidden secret written in her features. The teen's normally clear expression is troubled, but they are talking and considering all that has happened of late, she is taking this as a step forward for them.

"It's not about Nikki, although of course I have a… soft spot for the detective. Your dad, he…"

How do you explain to someone that his stories were a constant when everything and everyone around her was disappearing? That long before she fell for him, she had fallen for his words.

She looks at him, her earlier soft smile freeing itself once more, and Kate lets Alexis see it all, ignores her usual desire to hide her thoughts. Over the last three months, she is finding that being with Castle has made her less reserved, has lightened the load of life further. She laughs more, relaxes more. She can only imagine what she would be like if she were able to let him in completely, how happy she could be in life if, together, they were able to knock over the last of her walls. If she were to say those three words back to him. If she could put a definition on what they are, what she wants for their future.

"You girls ready to go? Because I just need to pack and then I'm good."

Breaking their bubble, both nod in his direction, Kate's explanation, at least for now, remains unsaid, and stepping toward him, she lifts herself up onto her toes, brushing her lips across his cheek, before stepping back and reaching for a handle of the nearest case.

"It's okay, Castle I've packed and we're ready to go."

The surprise on his face causes a hitch in her heartbeat. The fact that he is so stunned by such a small gesture has her mentally kicking herself. They've been together for months, been partners for years, and she really needs to do more, take the first steps in pushing them forward. It really shouldn't be just up to him to get the momentum going.

Going in for another quick kiss, lips against lips, he returns her actions, and while it is only for a second she can sense the importance behind the move. With his daughter mere feet away, Kate wants him to know that she is there, that she is in this, even if she can't find the right words just yet, and his returning of her affection hopefully implies that he is right there beside her.

Grabbing all of their belongings and heading out the door, they make their way toward the reception through the badly lit hallway, sunlight streaming ahead as it makes its way into the glass walled office and Kate ignores the sharp pain in her hand from the metal keys digging into her palm. She is looking forward to a bit of heat on her face after the cold weather of late.

But with three feet left until the lobby, she hears her name spoken ahead, a clipped voice from someone around the corner. There's a man in the reception area asking for her and ice flows through her veins.

"The woman in this picture is Kate Beckett, do you recognize her? Or this girl, she would be hard to miss with the red hair? They may have also checked in with a man, a Richard Castle. Does this photo look familiar? Their car is in your parking area, and it is vital that we speak with them."

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_Thank you to all that support this story, especially chapter after chapter. It truly means so much._

_And thank you for all the favourites and followers._

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_Most of all thank you to Jo and Jamie for their every thing!_

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_Thoughts are appreciated xoxo_


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